PS 

3511 

I235 

C3 

1910 

MAIN 


IRLF 


3   111 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
WILLIAM  A.  SETCHELL,i864-i943 

PROFESSOR  OF  BOTANY 


QL 


fl1 


THE  MIDSUMMER  HIGH  JINKS 
OF  THE  BOHEMIAN  CLUB 

1910 


THE  GROVE  PLAY 


The  Cave  Man 

A  Play  of  the  Redwoods 
by 

Charles  K.  Field 

\\ 


Music  by 

W.  J.  McCoy 

Being   the    Thirty-third   Midsummer   High    Jinks 

of    the    Bohemian  Club   of    San    Francisco, 

as  performed  by  Members  of  the  Club, 

in  the  Bohemian    Grove,     Sonoma 

County,     California,      on 

the    Sixth     Night 

of     August, 

1910 


CHARLES    K.    FIELD 

SIRE 


C3 

10 

Mfti/0 


COPYRIGHT,   1910 

BY  THE 
BOHEMIAN  CLUB 


T  ? 


/ 


Foreword 

The  Grove  Play  of  the  Bohemian  Club  is  the  outgrowth  of 
an  illuminated  spectacle  produced  annually  among  redwood  trees 
in  California.  In  The  Man  in  the  Forest,  at  the  Midsummer 
Jinks  of  1902,  this  spectacle  first  became  a  play,  the  text  being 
the  work  of  one  author  and  the  music  the  work  of  one  composer. 
Since  then,  the  music  drama  has  been  steadily  elaborated.  Yet 
it  has  been  the  aim,  excepting  the  play  of  Montezuma  (1903), 
to  produce  a  play  inherently  of  the  forest. 

The  Cave  Man  (1910)  has  its  inspiration  in  the  fact  that 
the  sequoia  groves  of  California,  one  of  which  the  Bohemian 
Club  owns,  are  the  only  forests  now  existing  that  resemble  the 
forests  of  the  cave  man's  day.  While  it  has  not  yet  been  estab 
lished  that  man  of  the  cave  type  occupied  this  region  of  the  earth, 
migrations  here  bringing  people  possibly  of  a  much  more  ad 
vanced  culture,  it  is  sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  the  grove 
dramatist  to  be  able  to  present  characters  of  the  more  ancient 
type  in  a  natural  setting  startlingly  close  to  the  original  scenery 
of  the  cave  man's  life. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  to  reproduce  the  exact  conditions 
of  speech,  appearance,  or  musical  expression.  Simple  language, 
to  set  forth  such  ideas  and  passions  as  might  make  a  presentable 
play,  has  been  employed  and  has  been  reinforced  by  interpre 
tative  music  in  the  manner  of  today.  Many  thousands  of  years 
of  progress  may  lie,  in  reality,  between  the  types  exhibited  in 
this  drama,  yet,  in  the  physical  aspects  of  the  life  of  these  people, 
care  has  been  taken  to  exclude  such  anachronisms  as  the  use  of 
the  bow  and  arrow  and  the  making  of  pictures  on  rock  or  in 
carved  bone — accomplishments  that  post-dated  the  discovery  of 
fire  by  tens  of  thousands  of  years.  The  characters  have  been 
costumed  to  suggest  men  of  a  primitive  type,  yet  far  removed 
from  the  creature  that  was  to  evolve  the  gorilla  of  our  day. 
That  creature,  also  a  character  in  the  drama,  doubtless  resembled 
the  cave  man  more  nearly  than  his  descendant  resembles  us.  His 
quest  of  the  woman  in  the  play  is  warranted  by  the  reported 
anxiety  of  modern  Africans  regarding  their  own  women  and 
the  gorilla. 

The  episode  of  the  tar  pool  is  based  upon  the  recently  reported 
discoveries  in  a  similar  deposit,  in  California,  where  remarkably 
frequent  remains  of  the  animals  and  birds  named  by  Long  Arm 
in  his  narrative  have  been  brought  to  light.  To  Dr.  J.  C. 
Merriam,  of  the  University  of  California,  under  whose  direction 
these  discoveries  have  been  reported,  I  am  indebted  for  a  sympa 
thetic  editing  of  the  text  of  this  play. 


Vll 


I  desire  to  record  my  gratitude  to  those  members  of  the 
Bohemian  Club  whose  co-operation,  well  in  accord  with  the 
traditions  which  have  made  possible  the  club's  admirable  pro 
ductions,  has  carried  my  dream  of  the  cave  man  to  fulfillment. 
Mr.  W.  J.  McCoy,  already  wearing  the  laurels  of  the 
Hamadryads,  undertook  to  express  my  play  in  music  when  the 
task  could  be  accomplished  only  by  severe  sacrifice.  That  he 
has  contributed  to  the  musical  treasures  of  the  club  a  work 
which,  perhaps,  excels  his  former  composition  is,  I  trust,  some 
measure  of  reward.  Mr.  Edward  J.  Duffey,  the  wizard  of  the 
illuminated  grove,  has  rendered  service  equally  important  to  a 
play  whose  action  is  written  round  the  phenomenon  of  fire.  Mr. 
George  E.  Lyon,  that  rare  combination  of  artist  and  carpenter, 
with  the  assistance  of  Dr.  Harry  Carleton,  has  performed  the 
feat  of  making  the  hillside  more  beautiful,  adding  stage  scenery 
without  sacrilege.  To  Mr.  Frank  L.  Mathieu,  veteran  of  many 
battles  with  amateur  talent,  I  am  indebted  for  untiring  super 
vision  of  the  production  of  the  play  and  for  valuable  suggestions 
in  its  arrangement.  Mr.  Porter  Garnett,  authority  upon  grove 
plays  and  himself  sire  imminent,  has  proved  his  loyalty  by  work 
ing  all  night  upon  the  making  of  this  book  of  the  play.  Mr. 
J.  de  P.  Teller  has  drilled  two  choirs  in  the  difficult  music  of  the 
Epilogue.  Mr.  David  Bispham,  a  new  member  of  the  club  and 
an  artist  of  international  fame,  has  shown  himself  imbued  also 
with  the  amateur  spirit  which  is  one  of  the  important  elements 
in  the  grove  play's  charm.  To  the  Board  of  Directors,  and  to 
their  immediate  predecessors,  with  their  respective  Jinks  Com 
mittees,  whose  sympathy  and  aid  under  unusual  circumstances 
have  made  possible  the  Midsummer  Jinks  of  1910,  and  to  all 
the  brothers  in  Bohemia  who  have  joined  me  in  the  labor  and 
pleasure  of  that  effort,  I  subscribe  myself  in  sincere  acknowledg 
ment, 

CHARLES  K.  FIELD. 


Vlll 


The  Story  of  The  Play 

Once  upon  a  time,  some  tens  of  thousands  of  years  ago,  the 
greater  part  of  the  northern  hemisphere  was  covered  with  a 
mighty  forest  of  conifers.  Its  trees  rose  hundreds  of  feet  in 
height;  their  huge  trunks,  twenty  and  thirty  feet  through,  were 
shaggy  with  a  reddish  bark;  between  them  grew  smaller  and 
gentler  trees,  thick  ferns  and  blossoming  vines.  Today,  in  the 
sequoia  groves  of  California  stands  all  that  is  left  of  that 
magnificent  woodland. 

On  a  memorable  night,  when  the  moon  searched  the  deep 
shadows  of  Bohemia's  redwoods  for  memories  of  the  past  and 
the  mystery  of  night  magnified  our  trees  to  the  size  of  their 
brethren  in  other  groves,  I  sat  with  W .  J.  McCoy  before  the  high 
finks  stage.  Fancy  has  ever  been  stimulated  by  fact  and  we  were 
aware  that  we  looked  upon  such  a  scene  as  the  cave  man  knew. 
And  so  in  the  moonlight  we  dreamed  that  the  forest  was  still 
growing  in  the  comparative  youth  of  mankind,  that  no  light  other 
than  the  fires  of  heaven  had  ever  shone  in  the  grove,  that  the 
man  of  that  day  wooed  his  mate  and  fought  great  beasts  for 
their  raw  flesh  and  made  the  first  fire  among  those  very  trees. 

The  prehistoric  forest  was  very  dark  and  as  dangerous  as  it 
was  dark.  Therefore  the  cave  men  went  into  their  caves  when 
daylight  faded  among  the  trees  and  they  blocked  the  cave  door 
ways  with  great  boulders  and  they  slept  soundly  on  leaves  and 
rushes  until  the  daylight  peeped  through  the  chinks  of  the 
boulders.  One  morning,  Broken  Foot,  a  big  man  with  heavy 
dark  hair  on  his  body  and  an  expression  that  was  not  amiable 
even  for  a  cave  man's  face,  rolled  back  the  blocking  of  his  cave 
and  crept  cautiously  out.  It  happened  that  a  deer  had  chosen 
to  drink  from  a  pool  by  Broken  Foot's  cave.  A  great  stone  broke 
the  neck  of  the  luckless  deer  and  the  cave  man  breakfasted  well. 

As  he  sat  there  on  the  rocks,  carving  with  his  flint  knife  the 
raw  body  of  the  deer,  certain  neighbors  joined  him,  one  by  one. 
They  were  Scar  Face,  a  prodigious  glutton  but  sharp  witted  and 
inventive,  Fish  Eyes  and  Short  Legs,  young  hunters  with 


IX 


specialties,  and  Wolf  Skin,  the  father  of  Singing  Bird,  a  much- 
admired  maiden  just  entering  womanhood.  Then  ensued  such 
talk  as  belonged  to  that  period — stories  of  hunting,  of  escape 
and  also  of  discoveries.  Many  remarkable  things  were  being  put 
forth  in  those  days  by  the  inquiring  spirit  of  men,  shells  to  hold 
water,  a  log  that  would  obey  a  man  with  a  paddle,  even  a  wolf 
had  been  tamed  and  made  a  companion  of  a  hunter.  So  the 
morning  passed  in  interesting  discussion  and  all  would  have  been 
harmonious  in  the  little  group  before  Broken  Foot's  cave  had 
not  Short  Legs  listened  eagerly  to  Wolf  Skin's  description  of 
his  daughter  and  announced  his  intention  of  mating  with  her. 
As  he  rose  to  seek  the  girl,  Broken  Foot  knocked  him  down 
with  a  sudden  blow  and  bade  him  think  no  more  of  the  cave 
maiden.  At  this,  Short  Legs,  although  no  match  for  the  great 
bully,  burst  out  with  a  torrent  of  abuse,  calling  Broken  Foot  many 
unpleasant  names,  and  Fish  Eyes,  his  inseparable  friend,  came 
to  his  aid  with  more  unflattering  words,  even  accusing  Broken 
Foot  of  murdering  his  brother  to  get  his  cave  and  his  mate. 
Broken  Foot,  making  ready  to  seek  the  girl,  listened  indifferently 
to  this  tirade  until  Short  Legs  called  him  a  coward. 

Earlier  in  the  day  Wolf  Skin  had  told  of  meeting  a  stranger 
in  the  forest,  a  young  man  who  carried  a  singular  weapon,  made 
of  both  wood  and  stone.  This  stranger  had  inquired  for  the 
cave  of  Broken  Foot,  a  man  who  dragged  one  foot  as  he  walked. 
Short  Legs  accused  Broken  Foot  of  running  away  from  this  new 
comer.  This  was  too  much.  Broken  Foot,  already  part  way  up 
the  hill  on  his  way  to  Singing  Bird,  turned  back  toward  the  cave 
men  threateningly.  Just  then  a  young  man  came  along  a  higher 
path.  He  looked  down  on  the  man  who  dragged  one  foot  as 
he  walked.  With  a  terrible  cry  of  rage  he  leaped  down  the  hill. 
Broken  Foot,  with  his  great  strength,  had  been  the  champion  of 
those  woods  for  years.  But  Long  Arm,  the  stranger,  carried  the 
first  stone  axe,  and  under  this  new  weapon  Broken  Foot  went 
down  into  the  dead  leaves. 

Then,  of  course,  the  whole  story  came  out.  The  young 
stranger  proved  to  be  the  son  of  the  man  whom  Broken  Foot  had 
murdered.  The  boy  had  been  with  the  two  men  at  the  time. 
The  scene  of  the  murder  was  a  small  lake  into  which  tar  con 
tinually  oozed,  making  a  sticky  trap  for  all  sorts  of  wild  animals. 
A  similar  place  exists  in  California  today,  where  animals  are 
caught,  and  geologists  have  found  in  the  ground  there  great 
quantities  of  bones  of  prehistoric  animals,  the  sabretooth  tigers 
and  the  great  wolves  of  the  cave  man's  day.  Here  was  enacted 
the  tragedy  of  which  Long  Arm  tells.  The  boy  got  away  and 
was  reared  by  the  Shell  People  on  their  mounds  beside  the  sea. 


He  had  invented  a  new  weapon  and  now  he  had  come  back  into 
the  forest  to  kill  Broken  Foot  and  to  get  again  the  cave  of  his 
father. 

Long  Arm  was  kindly  welcomed  by  the  cave  men.  They  had 
no  love  for  the  dead  bully  and  they  respected  a  good  fight.  So 
the  boy  was  welcomed  home  again.  Yet  the  greeting  held  a  note 
of  warning  in  it.  Old  One  Eye,  fleeing  through  the  forest,  told 
them  that  the  terrible  man-beast  was  again  roving  through  the 
trees.  The  cave  men  did  not  know  that  this  creature  was  but 
the  ancestor  of  the  gorilla  of  today.  To  them  he  was  a  man 
who  seemed  to  be  a  beast.  They  could  not  understand  him  but 
they  knew  that  he  was  larger  than  any  other  man  and  stronger 
than  all  of  them  together,  and  they  gave  him  a  wide  berth. 

Long  Arm  was  left  alone  in  the  cave  he  had  regained.  He 
sat  on  the  rocks,  in  the  pleasant  shade  of  the  trees,  and  chipped 
away  at  the  edge  of  his  flint  axe.  He  was  very  well  satisfied 
with  himself  and  he  sang  a  kind  of  exultant  song  in  tribute  to 
the  weapon  that  had  served  him  so  well.  As  he  worked  and  sang 
the  sparks  flew  from  the  flint  and  by  one  of  those  chances  which 
have  made  history  from  the  dawn  of  time,  some  dry  grass  was 
kindled.  No  one  in  the  world  had  made  fire  before  that  day. 
Long  Arm  saw  what  he  thought  was  some  bright  new  kind  of 
serpent.  He  struck  it  a  fatal  blow  with  his  axe  and  picked  it  up ; 
it  bit  him  and  with  a  cry  he  shook  it  from  his  hand.  Chances  go 
in  pairs,  sometimes.  The  burning  twig  fell  into  a  little  pool  and 
was  extinguished.  Long  Arm  observed  and  studied  all  this,  a 
very  much  puzzled  but  interested  young  man.  Then  occurred 
one  of  those  moments  that  have  lifted  men  above  the  brutes. 
Long  Arm  struck  his  flints  together  and  made  fire  again  and  man 
has  been  repeating  and  improving  that  process  ever  since. 

That  was  destined  to  be  a  red-letter  day,  if  we  may  use  such 
a  calendar  term,  in  the  life  of  that  young  cave  man.  He  had  got 
his  cave  again  and  he  had  discovered  something  that  would  make 
it  the  best  home  in  all  the  world,  yet  it  was  not  complete.  And 
just  then  he  heard  Wolf  Skin's  daughter  singing  among  the  trees. 
Long  Arm  dropped  his  new  toy  and  it  burned  out  on  the  rock. 
He  hid  behind  a  great  tree  and  watched.  Singing  Bird  came, 
unsuspecting,  down  the  path.  One  of  the  pools  near  the  cave 
was  quiet  and  the  young  girl  was  not  proof  against  the  allure 
ment  of  this  mirror.  She  had  twined  some  blossoms  in  her  hair 
and  she  was  enjoying  the  reflection  when  Long  Arm  stole  toward 
her.  But  she  saw  his  reflection  too,  in  time  to  leap  away  from 
him.  Then  Long  Arm  wooed  her  instead  of  following  to  take 
her  by  force,  for  that  was  not  at  all  a  certainty,  since  she  might 
easily  outrun  him.  So  he  told  her  of  himself  and  his  stone  axe 
and  his  victory  and  his  cave,  making  it  all  as  attractive  as  possible 
and  at  last  he  told  her  of  the  fire  and  made  it  before  her  eyes 
with  his  sparking  flints.  Singing  Bird  was  deeply  impressed  by 


XI 


all  these  things  and  by  the  confident  manner  of  Long  Arm,  and 
especially  by  the  bright  new  plaything,  and  she  came  gradually 
nearer  to  see  these  wonders. 

Then  suddenly  the  man-beast  came  upon  the  two,  and  the 
woman  leaped  in  terror  to  the  arms  of  the  man.  The  man-beast 
barred  the  way  to  the  cave.  Then  Long  Arm  braved  him,  though 
it  meant  death,  that  the  girl  might  flee.  The  man-beast  seized 
Long  Arm's  boasted  axe  and  snapped  it  like  a  twig.  Then  he 
grasped  the  man  and  proceeded  to  crush  him  in  his  hairy  hold. 
But  the  girl,  under  the  spell  of  her  new  love,  had  run  but  a 
little  way  and  then,  in  spite  of  her  terror,  turned  to  look  back. 
She  shrieked  wildly  at  Long  Arm's  peril  and  the  great  beast 
threw  the  man  aside  and  came  after  the  girl.  She  tried  desperately 
to  evade  him  and  to  get  to  the  narrow  door  of  the  cave.  Mean 
while  Long  Arm  had  been  only  stunned.  Recovering,  he  saw  the 
firebrand  burning  where  he  had  dropped  it  on  the  rocks.  He 
seized  it,  remembering  its  bite,  and  again  attacked  the  man-beast. 
Here  was  something  new,  and  very  terrible.  No  animal,  from 
that  day  to  this,  has  stood  against  fire.  The  man-beast  fled  into 
the  forest. 

Then  Long  Arm  came  back  in  triumph.  Wonderful  days  fol 
lowed,  with  the  happy  discovery  of  cooked  meat,  and  the  tragedy 
of  a  forest  fire,  but  through  all  their  lives  Long  Arm  and  Singing 
Bird  remembered  this  day  when,  in  the  joy  of  their  escape  from 
death  and  under  the  spell  of  the  woodland  in  springtime,  they 
began  their  life  together  in  the  cave. 


Xll 


Persons  in  the  Play 

BROKEN  FOOT Henry  A.  Melvin 

SCAR  FACE: •      •      •     Waldemar  Young 

SHORT  LEGS ...     Spenser  Grant 

FISH  EYES Orrin  A.  Wilson 

WOLF  SKIN     .......:...     Frank  P.  Deering 

LONG  ARM David  Bispham 

ONE  EYE Harry  A.  Russell 

SINGING  BIRD     .      .      .      .      .      .      .      .      .     Richard  Hotaling 

THE  MAN-BEAST Amedee  Joullin 

THE  WOMAN'S  VOICE Wyndham  Medcraft 

Cave  men,  women  and  children 

SCENE:  A  sequoia  forest. 

TIME:  From  dawn  till  midnight,  about  fifty  thousand  years  ago. 


Persons  in  the  Epilogue 

FIRST  VOICE Vail  Bakewell 

SECOND  VOICE  . Edward  H.  Hamilton 

THE  MASTER Frederick  J.  Koster 

CHOIR  OF  SPIRITUAL  VOICES. 
CHORUS  OF  MANKIND. 

Shepherds,    Farmers,    Warriors    and    Philosophers 


The  stage  directed  by  Frank  L.  Mathieu.  The  scene  and 
properties  designed  and  built  by  George  E.  Lyon.  The  lighting 
and  fire  effects  devised  and  executed  by  Edward  J.  Duffy.  The 
costumes  prepared  by  Goldstein  &  Co.,  under  the  supervision  of 
John  C.  Merritt.  The  calcium  lights  managed  by  F.  W.  French. 

The  music,  conducted  by  the  composer,  rendered  by  the  fol 
lowing  forces : 

A  chorus  of  sixty-five  voices,  consisting  of  seventeen  first 
tenors,  sixteen  second  tenors,  sixteen  first  basses,  and  sixteen 
second  basses,  recruited  from  the  membership  of  the  club. 

A  choir  of  fifteen  boys,  recruited  from  the  vested  choirs  of 
St.  John's  Church,  Oakland,  and  Christ  Church,  Alameda. 

An  orchestra  of  sixty  instruments,  distributed  as  follows: 

Ten  first  violins,  eight  second  violins,  six  violas,  six  cellos, 
six  double  basses,  two  flutes,  two  oboes,  two  clarinets,  English 
horn,  two  bassoons,  four  trumpets,  four  horns,  three  trombones, 
harp,  tuba,  tympani  and  drums. 

JOHN  DE  P.  TELLER,  Chorus  Master. 
JOHN  JOSEPHS,  Concert  Master. 


xiv 


Plan  of  the  Music 

1  PRELUDE. 

2  THE  FIGHT  BETWEEN  LONG  ARM  AND  BROKEN  FOOT 

3  LONG  ARM'S  STORY  OF  THE  TAR  POOL 

4  THE  SONG  OF  THE  FLINT 

5  LONG  ARM'S  DISCOVERY  OF  FIRE. 

6  THE  SPRING  SONG  OF  THE  CAVE  MAIDEN 

7  LONG  ARM'S  BATTLE  WITH  THE  MAN-BEAST 

8  THE  SONG  OF  MATING 

9  INTERMEZZO — THE  DANCE  OF  THE  FIREFLIES 

10  THE  MAN-BEAST'S  CAPTURE  OF  SINGING  BIRD 

11  THE  RESCUE 

12  THE  FOREST  FIRE 


The    Epilogue 


13  CHOIR  OF  SPIRITUAL  VOICES 

14  THE  SONG  OF  THE  STAR 

15  CHORUS:  THE  MARCH  OF  THE  DAWN 


The  Cave  Man 

(The  scene  is  a  forested  hillside  in  the  geological  period  pre 
ceding  the  present, — some  tens  of  thousands  of  years  ago.  The 
landscape  is  black  with  night,  but  between  the  treetops  are 
glimpses  of  the  stars.  The  orchestral  introduction  is  in  keeping 
with  the  darkness;  it  suggests  the  chill  of  an  era  when  fire  is 
unknown,  and  the  terror  that  pervades  the  prehistoric  forest  at 
night.  Into  the  glimpses  of  sky  at  the  top  of  the  hill  comes  the 
Hush  of  dawn.  The  red  fades  into  blue  and  light  comes  through 
the  forest,  progressively  down  the  hillside.  The  radiance  of 
morning  discloses  a  grove  of  giant  conifers,  rich  in  ferns  and  in 
blossoming  vines;  it  is  spring  in  the  forest.  Rock  outcrops  from 
the  lower  parts  of  the  hillside  and  a  small  stream  plashes  into  a 
succession  of  pools;  at  the  base  of  the  hill  the  rock  appears  as  a 
great  ledge,  the  upper  portion  of  which  overhangs.  Small  plants 
cling  to  the  uneven  face  of  the  cliff  and  young  trees  stand  along 
its  rim.  Under  the  overhanging  ledge  there  is  a  narrow  entrance, 
closed  with  two  boulders,  that  is  high  enough  to  admit  a  man 
stooping  slightly.  The  ground  immediately  before  the  cave  is 
level,  but  soon  drops  in  a  succession  of  ledges  to  a  plateau  nlled 
with  ferns  and  boulders  through  which  the  stream  flows.  Blossom 
ing  plants  edge  the  pools  and  the  lower  and  larger  pool  has  tall 
reeds,  tules,  and  ferns  about  it.  The  stream  continues  on  to  a 
river  that  runs  westward  to  the  sea. 

Act  I. 

As  the  orchestral  prelude  concludes,  the  morning  light  has 
struck  upon  the  entrance  to  the  cave  and  the  boulders  with  which 
it  is  closed  are  moved  cautiously  aside.  BROKEN  FOOT,  the  man 
of  the  cave,  is  aware  of  day.  His  figure  is  dimly  seen  in  the 
entrance.  He  emerges  and  stands  before  the  cave,  listening. 
The  light  grows.  BROKEN  FOOT  suddenly  crouches,  gazing  in 
tently  at  the  lower  pool.  The  tall  rushes  quiver  and  a  stag's  head 
emerges  from  them.  The  stag  drinks.  BROKEN  FOOT  picks  up 
a  stone  and  creeps  forward.  He  hurls  the  stone  upon  the  stag. 
The  animal,  struck  fairly,  crashes  back  among  the  rushes  and 
the  stone  caroms  into  the  pool  with  a  great  splash.  BROKEN  FOOT 


THE    CAVEMAN 


utters  a  cry  and  leaps  into  the  rushes.  They  quiver  with  a  struggle 
from  which  BROKEN  FOOT  emerges,  dragging  the  limp  body  of 
the  stag.  He  pulls  the  carcass  up  over  the  rocks  to  the  level 
before  the  cave  and  throws  it  down  with  a  grunt  of  triumph. 
The  orchestral  prelude  ends.  BROKEN  FOOT  hunts  for  an  edged 
stone  and,  finding  one,  begins  to  cut  at  the  deer.  He  first  jabs 
at  the  throat  and  sucks  the  warm  blood.  The  red  shows  upon  his 
hands  and  beard.  He  cuts  at  the  body  of  the  stag. 

SCAR  FACE,  rather  fat  for  a  cave  man,  enters  upon  the  hill. 
He  squats  and  observes  BROKEN  FOOT.  The  men  are  brown- 
skinned,  with  short  rough  hair  and  beards,  and  wide  noses;  they 
are  hairy  on  chest,  back  and  limbs,  and  are  girded  with  animal 
pelts.) 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  A-a-a !  The  stone  is  dull,  the  skin  tougher  than 
wood.  If  the  flesh  matches  it,  I  have  made  a 
poor  kill. 

(ScAR  FACE  lets  a  feiv  loose  stones  fall  over 
the  cliff.  At  their  clatter  BROKEN  FOOT  springs 
up  in  alarm  and  grasps  the  stag  by  the  antlers.) 

SCAR  FACE  :         Broken  Foot's  knife  is  of  little  use  to  him. 

BROKEN  FOOT:  And  less  use  to  you.  The  meat  is  mine,  Scar 
Face.  Go  kill  your  own  eating. 

SCAR  FACE  :  And  if  I  do  kill  I  have  a  knife  that  will  cut  my 
food. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    Give  it  to  me. 

SCAR  FACE  :  The  knife  is  mine  as  the  meat  is  yours.  Look 
you,  Broken  Foot,  let  my  knife  cut  your  meat 
for  us  both. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    What  kind  of  knife  is  it — stone  ? 

SCAR  FACE  :  Sharper  than  ever  stone  was !  I'll  come  down 
there  and  you  shall  see. 

(He  descends  from  the  cliff  by  a  path  among 
the  trees.) 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    If  it  is  not  keen  you  shall  have  none  of  this  meat. 

SCAR  FACE:  (pausing  in  his  descent)  See!  was  ever  stone 
so  sharp  as  the  knife  I  have?  This  has  done 
bloody  work  in  its  time,  men's  blood,  too.  Do 
you  know  who  used  it? 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    I  cannot  see  from  here.     Come  down. 
SCAR  FACE:         Your  pledge  that  you  will  not  fight  for  it? 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


BROKEN  FOOT  :    Aye. 

(ScAR  FACE  comes  dozvn  and  shozvs  his  knife 
to  BROKEN  FOOT.) 

The  sabre  tooth! 

SCAR  FACE  :  I  found  the  white  bones  bleaching  in  the  sun. 
The  other  tooth  was  missing,  broken  off  close, 
perhaps  in  the  tiger's  last  fight.  With  a  stone 
and  much  care  I  got  this  safely  off  the  skull. 
Now  it  works  in  my  hand  as  it  served  the  beast 
once.  See,  how  it  cuts ! 

(ScAR  FACE  attacks  the  stag's  carcass  eagerly. 
BROKEN  FOOT  watches  moodily,  then  joins  him, 
crouching  over  the  meat.  They  take  pieces  and 
eat.) 

SCAR  FACE  :         The  meat  is  good. 
BROKEN  FOOT  :    Give  me  the  knife. 

SCAR  FACE  :  No;  there  will  be  more  meat  to  cut,  I  hope.  But 
I  will  give  you  another  thing. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    What  ? 

SCAR  FACE:  ;  I  will  tell  you  something.  It  is  a  great  thing 
that  I  have  found.  Often  you  have  waked  in 
the  cave,  before  the  light  creeps  through  the 
door  cracks,  and  been  thirsty? 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    Aye,  well ! 

SCAR  FACE:  The  night  was  still  and  you  could  hear  the  water 
falling  o-iatside  in  the  darkness.  And  you  grew 
more  .thirsty,  hearing  it  call  to  you  and  mock 
you  because  you-  could  not  go  out  to  it  and 
drink,  for  it  was  night  and  no  man  may  stir 
from  the  safety  of  the  cave  after  nightfall.  Eh? 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    You  have  many  words,  Scar  Face,  but  no  news. 

SCAR  FACE  :  Once  I  had  none,  like  you.  I,  too,  listened  with 
dry  throat  and  waited  for  the  day.  But  not 
now ! 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  O  ho,  now  you  come  out  into  the  darkness  and 
all  the  forest  is  afraid  of  you,  because  of  your 
knife — the  lions  and  wolves,  even,  go  running, 
thinking  you  are  old  Sabre  Tooth  himself?  Am 
I  a  cub  that  you  give  me  such  words  ? 

(ScAR  FACE  laughs  teasingly  and  BROKEN 
FOOT  rages.) 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


Here !  I  have  killed  this  meat  for  myself,  yet 
I  had  rather  your  mouth  were  filled  with  it 
than  with  such  talk. 

SCAR  FACE  :  Before  I  fill  it  my  talk  shall  pay  you.  Hear  me. 
All  your  life  you  have  seen  the  great  gourd 
hanging  upon  the  forest  vines;  you  have  known 
that  when  it  dries  the  gourd  is  hollow  but  for 
the  seeds  that  rattle  in  it.  And  all  your  life 
you  have  seen  how  the  rain  lies  in  the  hollow 
places  in  the  rocks  until  the  sun  drinks  it.  But 
Broken  Foot,  the  great  fighter  with  sharp 
stones,  he  has  never  thought  to  himself:  "Water 
will  stand  in  the  hollow  gourd  if  I  fill  it  at  the 
stream  and  take  it  to  the  cave."  No,  he  is  a 
great  man  among  the  caves,  but  he  lies  awake 
thirsty  through  the  night  while  Scar  Face 
drinks  when  he  will! 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  (pondering)  Aye,  it  is  true,  I  never  thought  of 
that! 

SCAR  FACE  :         See  there,  two  hunters  from  the  river. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  Short  Legs  is  one  of  them ;  I  know  him  by  his 
walk. 

SCAR  FACE  :  The  other  is  he  that  has  eyes  like  a  fish  and 
swims  like  one.  Those  two  hunt  together  al 
ways. 

(FisH    EYES   and    SHORT   LEGS    enter   down 
stage  with  fish  and  game.) 

They   have   hunted   well,   this   morning.      Their 
hands  are  filled  with  something.     Hi-i ! 
(The  tzvo  hunters  pause.) 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    Why  do  you  call  them  ? 

SCAR  FACE  :         Hi,  cave  men,  what  kill  so  early  ? 

FISH  EYES  :  The  great  black  fish,  father  of  them  all.  After 
many  days  of  trying  I  have  caught  him. 

SHORT  LEGS :  And  a  white  swan  that  I  struck  fairly  with  a 
stone  cast  from  shore. 

SCAR  FACE  :  I  have  the  keenest  knife  of  all  the  forest — a 
sabre  tooth.  It  cuts  easily  through  fish  scale 
and  feathers.  Let  us  share  what  we  have. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    Ho,  have  you  not  filled  your  belly  with  my  meat  ? 

SCAR  FACE  :  But  it  was  only  meat.  And  here  is  fish  and 
water-fowl  as  well.  You  too  shall  share  them. 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


See,  here  is  the  knife  and  meat  I  have  cut  with 
it. 

(SCAR  FACE;,  with  a  hunk  cut  from  the  deer, 
comes  down  to  the  newcomers.  The  three 
gather  on  some  rocks  and  proceed  to  share  the 
food.  BROKEN  FOOT  watches  them,  then  comes 
down,  glowering,  with  meat  in  his  hand.) 

BROKEN  FOOT  :    Why  do  you  hunt  together  always  ? 

SHORT  LEGS:  We  need  each  other.  I  can  cast  a  stone 
straighter  than  the  white  owl  falls  upon  the 
willow-grouse  or  the  ripe  nut  drops  to  the 
ground.  I  lie  quiet  by  the  water's  edge  and 
when  the  ducks  come  near  shore,  not  too  near, 
for  I  can  throw  far,  I  cast  the  stone  that  leaves 
one  always  floating  when  the  others  rise  from 
the  water  with  splashing  feet.  But  there  the 
bird  floats  and  I  am  on  the  shore,  for  I  am  a 
poor  swimmer. 

FISH  EYES  :  The  otter  is  no  better  swimmer  than  I.  The 
bottom  of  the  river  is  as  clear  to  me  as  rocks 
through  air.  And  I  can  stop  breathing — I  can 
follow  the  fish  into  their  hiding  places  under  the 
elder  roots.  That  is  how  I  got  this  old  fellow 
there,  that  Scar  Face  is  leaving  the  backbone 
of! 

SCAR  FACE  :  I  could  get  Short  Legs'  ducks  for  him  without 
swimming. 

FISH  EYES  :  Huh !  You  would  make  the  sound  that  the  duck 
makes,  now  that  it  is  the  mating  season,  and 
they  would  swim  into  your  hands.  But  when 
Short  Legs  hits  one  with  a  stone  it  cares  no 
more  for  mating! 

SCAR  FACE:  No.  I  understand  many  things  that  you  do 
not,  Web-foot !  You  have  never  yet  made  a 
mating  noise  of  any  kind. 

FISH  EYES:         The   noise   you   make   is— 

SCAR  FACE:  Let  us  not  quarrel;  we  have  eaten  too  well.  I 
will  tell  you  something.  Yesterday  I  sat  upon 
a  log  that  floated  in  a  little  bay.  My  weight 
loosened  it  from  the  grasses  that  held  it  and 
the  moving  water  carried  me  away  from  the 
bank.  It  was  no  new  thing  for  me  to  float 
down  the  river.  It  is  much  better  than  walking 
over  rough  paths.  But  as  I  floated  slowly  I 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


could  see  along  the  bank  a  mass  of  berries, 
turning  red  even  now,  though  the  season  is  but 
new.  My  lips  watered  for  them,  but  I  was 
floating  past  them.  Then  I  found  a  strange 
thing.  My  leg  had  slipped  into  the  water  on 
the  further  side  of  the  log.  As  it  did  so,  the 
log  turned  slightly  toward  those  berries.  I 
tried  that  leg  again  and  then  that  arm,  and  the 
log  obeyed  me  and  I  stained  my  mouth  with 
the  cool  sweet  blood  of  those  berries.  If  you 
will  kill  a  duck  for  me,  Short  Legs,  I  will  show 
you  how  I  can  float  out  and  get  it. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  In  the  matter  of  the  gourd  I  believe  you,  Scar 
Face,  but  Short  Legs  will  go  hungry  for  ducks 
if  he  trusts  to  your  swimming  log.  For  my 
part,  I  shall  do  as  Left  Hand  did  with  the 
young  timber  wolf.  He  killed  a  she  wolf  once 
and  took  a  she  cub  to  his  cave  and  tied  her 
there.  It  was  a  strange  fancy.  We  have 
troubles  enough  outside  our  caves  without 
bringing  them  in.  Yet  the  young  wolf  grew 
gentle  and  seldom  offered  to  bite  him,  though 
he  did  not  trust  her.  Later  he  let  her  go,  when 
she  was  large,  and  the  wolves  came  to  the  cave's 
mouth  in  the  mating  season,  but  she  kept  in  the 
forest  near  him  and  he  never  harmed  her. 
More  than  that,  he  gave  her  meat  when  he  had 
plenty.  She  had  young,  and  Left  Hand  again 
took  one  to  his  cave.  Then  she  went  away  tak 
ing  the  other  cub.  But  Left  Hand's  wolf 
grew  friendly  from  the  first  and  now  they  hunt 
together  like  men.  Left  Hand  stuns  or  kills 
the  game  and  the  wolf  fetches  it  from  where  it 
falls. 

FISH  EYES  :  If  it  were  not  Broken  Foot,  the  man  who  fights 
so  well  with  the  stone  dagger,  one  might  say 
his  story  is  like  those  that  One  Eye,  the  gray 
haired,  tells  to  boys  before  his  son's  cave. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  My  story  is  true,  you  water-weed.  And  the 
tales  of  One  Eye  are  true,  at  least  those  stories 
of  the  great  beasts  of  long  ago.  I  myself  have 
seen  the  enormous  bones  washed  out  of  the  hill 
side  that  winter  when  the  rain  fell  from  the  sky 
like  a  river  down  a  cliff. 

SCAR  FACE  :  One  Eye's  tales  are  well  enough  for  old  men 
who  are  through  with  a  man's  life  and  for  boys 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


who  have  not  begun.  One  Eye  lives  in  a  past 
that  is  so  much  better  than  today  I  am  sorry 
I  was  born  so  late.  Nothing  is  so  good  to 
One  Eye  now  as  it  was  once.  To  me  this 
forest  seems  very  good.  Surely  it  is  much  more 
comfortable  than  when  those  monster  bones  had 
flesh  on  them !  But  One  Eye  says  the  forest 
is  changing  sadly;  it  is  not  what  it  was  when 
he  was  young! 

SHORT  LEGS :  I  have  heard  One  Eye  tell  his  stories  and  I 
believe  he  did  those  deeds  in  the  same  way  that 
I  have  had  fine  long  legs  and  run  like  a  deer  and 
done  great  hunting.  But  it  was  only  at  night 
in  the  cave  when  I  was  asleep. 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  Scar  Face  is  so  wise  and  knows  so  many 
things,  he  can  tell  us  how  it  is  we  do  such 
deeds  at  night,  how  we  travel  into  other  forests 
and  kill  tigers  without  leaving  the  safe  warm 
cave. 

SCAR  FACE  :  The  deeds  you  speak  of  are  dreams.  All  people 
do  those  things. 

SHORT  LEGS :  Where  are  the  places  we  visit  and  why  are  we 
always  in  the  cave  just  where  we  lay  down 
before  we  see  them? 

SCAR  FACE  :  If  I  told  you,  you  would  not  understand,  for 
you  go  to  the  pool  to  drink  when  you  are 
thirsty  and  you  swim  in  the  cold  water  to  get 
a  wounded  duck, — I  am  different  from  you.  But 
I  will  tell  you  this  much.  I  knew  a  man  who 
had  traveled  farther  from  our  cave  country 
than  any  other  we  have  known.  He  told  me 
once  that  he  had  come  into  a  great  wide  land 
where  there  were  no  trees,  where  all  was  sand 
such  as  the  river  leaves  when  it  grows  small 
under  the  sun.  And  as  he  journeyed  in  this 
strange  land  he  saw  ahead  of  him  a  quiet  lake 
fringed  with  trees  and  rushes  and  with  water 
fowl  circling  over  it.  He  went  forward  eagerly, 
for  his  throat  was  hot,  but  as  he  hastened  the 
lake  faded  suddenly  and  there  was  nothing  there 
but  sand.  Yet  it  was  daylight  and  he  was  awake 
and  running.  It  is  the  same  with  dreams. 

(WoLF  SKIN  enters  high  on  the  hill.  He 
pauses  and  looks  down  upon  the  group.  He 
carries  big  game  over  his  shoulder.  Around  his 
loins  he  has  the  gray  pelt  of  a  timber  wolf.) 


8 


THE    CAVE    MAN 


FISH  EYES  : 
WOLF  SKIN  : 

SCAR  FACE:  : 
BROKEN  FOOT 

WOLF  SKIN  : 


SCAR  FACE  : 
WOLF  SKIN  : 

BROKEN  FOOT 
WOLF  SKIN  : 

SCAR  FACE  : 
WOLF  SKIN  : 


See,  there  is  Wolf  Skin  upon  the  hill.  Ai-i-i, 
what  game  did  you  get? 

I  have  killed  a  young  boar.  He  will  make  juicy 
eating  in  the  cave,  yet  he  got  blood  from  me 
ere  I  killed  him. 

Rest  here  with  us! 

Aye,  Wolf  Skin,  do  not  take  the  boar  meat 
to  your  cave.  Scar  Face  has  a  sabre  tooth  and 
a  belly  like  the  tiger's,  never  filled.  Share  with 
him. 

I  share  my  meat  with  no  one  but  my  own.  My 
cave  is  not  like  that  of  Scar  Face.  He  lets  his 
mate  hunt  for  him  and  feed  him  like  a  wide- 
mouthed  nestling.  Nor  do  I  hunt  for  my  own 
eating  merely,  like  Fish  Eyes  and  Short  Legs, 
who  have  no  mates ;  they  have  mated  with  each 
other  for  sake  of  food.  I  have  a  daughter  in 
my  cave;  she  is  fleet  and  strong,  grown  to  a 
woman  now,  but  she  shall  not  kill  her  own  meat 
while  Wolf  Skin  has  his  hunting  strength. 

In  these  soft  words  of  greeting  you  have  had 
none  for  Broken  Foot,  whose  cave  is  empty. 

For  Broken  Foot  I  have  words  more  near.  I 
have  news  for  him. 

Let  me  have  it  now. 

Singing  Bird  will  be  kept  waiting,   yet   I   will 
stop  to  tell  you. 
(He  descends.) 

Before  long,  Singing  Bird  will  look  for  her 
food  from  hands  she  will  like  better. 
(pausing)  That  time  has  come,  already.  Once 
the  girl  would  shrink  into  the  shadow  when  a 
man  stopped  by  our  cave.  When  I  asked  her 
to  bring  food  to  the  stranger  in  token  of  friend 
ship,  she  would  fetch  it  shyly,  without  looking  in 
the  stranger's  eyes,  and  when  she  had  given  it 
to  him  she  would  draw  back  swiftly  into  the 
cave  and  the  song  that  is  ever  upon  her  lips 
would  be  hushed  like  that  of  a  bird  darkened 
by  the  hawk's  shadow.  It  is  not  so  now.  She 
draws  near,  though  she  trembles,  and  her  eyes 
are  bright  and  fixed  upon  the  stranger's  face 
and  the  song  goes  on  under  her  breath,  as 
though  it  ran  in  her  blood  like  the  song  of  the 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


9 


SCAR  FACE  : 
WOLF  SKIN  : 


BROKEN  FOOT 


WOLF  SKIN 


brook  there.  And  she  goes  far  from  the  cave's 
mouth,  too  distant  for  a  maiden  in  our  danger 
ous  woods.  When  I  have  been  hunting  far 
from  our  cave  in  flower-sprinkled  glades  I  have 
heard  her  song  as  she  wandered,  forgetful  of 
danger.  It  is  not  good  that  she  should  be  so 
careless  of  her  life.  Yet  what  is  to  be  done? 
The  woods  are  alive  with  the  mating  of  birds 
and  beasts;  it  is  the  love  season,  and  my  cave 
must  lose  her  as  that  other  cave  lost  her  mother 
the  day  I  took  my  mate. 

Is  this  the  news  you  bring  Broken  Foot? 

(comes  down)  That  news  is  for  the  man  whom 
Singing  Bird  will  let  take  her  from  my  cave. 
My  words  for  Broken  Foot  touch  him  alone. 
Listen !  Yesterday,  as  the  sun  sank  toward  the 
hilltop,  I  heard  my  daughter  singing  in  the 
woods.  Suddenly  the  song  ceased  and  I  heard 
her  running  through  the  ferns.  Fearful  that 
some  beast  had  braved  the  daylight  to  follow 
her,  waked  by  her  foolish  song,  I  sprang  after 
her.  As  I  turned  through  the  trees,  I  came  on 
a  young  fellow,  unknown  in  these  caves.  In 
one  hand  he  bore  a  weapon,  new  to  me;  it  was 
both  wood  and  stone.  He  faced  me  without 
show  of  fight.  "I  frightened  her,"  he  said.  He 
spoke  straightforwardly  and  without  evil.  "I 
frightened  her/'  he  said  again,  "and  gladly 
would  I  have  followed  her  to  see  if  I  might  take 
her,  for  I  have  seen  no  such  maiden  among  the 
Shell  People.  But  I  must  finish  other  hunting 
first.  I  would  find  the  cave  by  the  dropping 
water  where  Broken  Foot  lives,  a  man  who 
drags  one  foot  as  he  walks.  Point  me  there." 
He  would  say  nothing  more,  but  questioned  me 
again,  and  I  asked  no  further  and  told  him  of 
this  place.  It  may  be  my  news  is  old.  Has  he 
been  here? 

None  but  these  mighty  hunters  who  have  stopped 
to  talk  like  women  on  my  rocks.  I  shall  be 
glad  of  a  real  man,  if  he  be  one,  though  I  have 
no  quarrel  with  the  father  of  Singing  Bird. 

She  ^may  well  quarrel  with  me  if  I  keep  the 
boar's  meat  from  her  for  so  long  a  time.  See, 
the  great  clouds  gather  across  the  sun.  There 
may  be  water  falling  and  mighty  roaring  of  the 


10 


THE1  C  A'.VE-M  AN 


sky   creatures.      My   cave    is   dry   and   waiting. 
(He  ascends.)     Good  hunting  to  you  all  and  no 
more  dangerous  growl  than  mine ! 
(He  goes  azvay  through  the  trees.) 

SCAR  FACE  :  Let  him  growl  as  he  will.  I  would  growl  too 
if  I  had  to  do  all  the  hunting  for  my  cave.  Red 
Hair  makes  my  cave  comfortable,  save  when 
she  rages.  She  likes  hunting  and  I  like  eating. 
We  get  on  very  well.  My  she  cubs  shall  be 
taught  to  make  themselves  useful  and  worth 
mating  with.  I  want  something  more  than  sing 
ing  when  I  am  hungry.  Yet  Wolf  Skin's  girl 
can  be  taught  if  any  of  you  are  thinking  of  her. 

FISH  EYES  :  Not  I.  I  never  longed  to  be  tied  to  one  cave.  I 
like  to  wander  as  I  will,  without  wife  and  young 
ones  to  bring  me  back  at  evening.  I  like  to  eat 
my  kill  somewhere  near  where  I  find  it,  not 
carry  it  home. 

SHORT  LEGS :  I  would  rather  not  wander  at  all.  The  cave  of 
Scar  Face  is  the  kind  for  me.  There  was  a  girl 
in  Split  Beard's  cave  that  was  a  good  hunter. 
I  should  have  liked  to  have  her,  but  Stone  Arm 
took  her.  Scar  Face  says  Singing  Bird  can  be 
taught.  That  is  so.  I  will  teach  her  and  we 
shall  have  a  cave  together.  That  will  be  better 
than  trying  to  keep  up  with  Fish  Eyes  who 
walks  too  fast.  I  will  go  after  her  now. 

(He  rises  and  BROKEN  FOOT,  springing  up, 
fells  him.) 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  Teach  dead  ducks  to  swim  ashore !  Singing 
Bird  comes  to  this  cave  and  to  none  other. 
There  I  shall  hang  what  you  have  left  of  my 
kill,  and  she  and  I  shall  finish  it  together  when 
I  have  brought  her  home. 

(BROKEN  FOOT,  returning  up  the  rocks,  picks 
up  remainder  of  the  stag  and  goes  into  his  cave. 
SHORT  LEGS  rises  and  rages  against  him.) 

SHORT  LEGS:  Cave  bully!  Cripple!  Robber  of  dead  men's 
caves !  Where  is  your  other  mate,  the  wife  of 
your  brother?  Why  does  she  not  work  for  you 
now  and  take  your  blows?  When  Singing  Bird 
sees  your  limping  foot  she  will  run  from  you 
laughing. 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


11 


(During  this  tirade,  BROKEN  FOOT  has  come 
from  his  cave  and  calmly  rolled  the  boulders 
before  it.  He  places  a  great  stone  dagger  in 
his  belt  and  starts  indifferently  up  the  hill.) 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  Let  the  maiden  look  upon  your  beautiful  legs 
and  she  will  know  that  she  need  not  run  from 
you. 

FISH  EYES  :  (advancing  to  the  support  of  his  friend)  His  legs 
have  never  carried  him  into  a  stolen  cave ! 
Where  is  Heavy  Hand,  your  brother,  who  once 
lived  there?  Where  is  the  boy  who  went  hunt 
ing  with  the  two  of  you  when  you  came  home 
alone?  Stories  of  tigers!  Tell  them  to  Wolf 
Skin  when  you  take  his  daughter.  It  may  be 
that  you  hunt  for  the  last  time  today. 
(ScAR  FACE  is  asleep  upon  the  rocks.) 
[Music — The  theme  of  BROKEN  FOOT,  chang 
ing  to  that  of  LONG  ARM.] 

SHORT  LEGS :  No,  Broken  Foot  only  pretends  to  go  wooing. 
He  is  running  away  from  the  stranger  who 
seeks  the  cave  of  the  man  that  drags  one  foot 
as  he  walks. 

(BROKEN   FOOT   turns  on   them  angrily.  As 

he   does  so,   LONG   ARM   enters  rapidly   on  the 

upper  path  and  stops  short  at  the  sight  of  the 
men  below  him.) 

BROKEN  FOOT  :  You  crawling  worm !  I  run  from  no  man.  If 
I  meet  the  stranger  he  shall  step  aside,  or  he 
shall  learn  that  no  one  stands  in  the  way  when 
Broken  Foot  seeks  his  mate. 

(During  the  last  of  this  dialogue,  LONG  ARM 
has  stood  listening  intently.  BROKEN  FOOT,  far 
above  the  others,  has  his  back  turned  to  the  hill 
side.  BROKEN  FOOT  laughs  scornfully,  and, 
turning  along  the  path,  begins  the  limping  walk 
that  characterises  him.  LONG  ARM  gives  a  great 
cry  of  -recognition  and  rage,  and  springs  down 
the  hill.  BROKEN  FOOT  takes  a  position  and 
squares  himself  for  combat.  Their  battle  follows. 
It  is  the  unequal  struggle  of  the  missile  and  the 
knife  against  the  axe.  BROKEN  FOOT  has  his 
iveapon  dashed  from  his  hand  by  the  strange 
weapon  of  the  newcomer  and  LONG  ARM'S  axe 
descends  crashing  through  the  skull  of  his 


12  THECAVEMAN 

antagonist.       BROKEN     FOOT     crumples    up    in 

silence.     LONG   ARM,   with  a  yell   of   triumph, 

seizes  his  body,  holds  it  in  air,  and  then  throivs 

it  headlong  down  the  hill;  looking  after  it,  he 

becomes  aware  of  the  witnesses  whom  he  has 

forgotten  in  his  excitement.     There  is  a  tense 

pause,  then  LONG  ARM  speaks.) 
LONG  ARM  :         Hear  me, 

Men  of  the  tree-caves; 

I  have  killed  Broken  Foot; 

Hear  why  I  killed  him, 

Hear  me,  and  judge 

Whether  we  fight 

Or  be  friends. 
FISH  EYES  :         What  name  was  given  you  ;  where  is  your  cave  ? 

(XoNG  ARM  descends  a  little) 
LONG  ARM  :         I  am  called  Long  Arm, 

Named  from  this  weapon 

Which  I  have  made. 

I  am  come  hither 

From  the  vast  water 

Where  the  sun  dives 

And  all  night  swims  under 

Till  in  the  morning 

He  comes  up  through  the  hills. 

Yet  in  my  early  days 

I  have  beheld  the  sun 

Sink  into  yonder  hill, 

Yea,   from  this  very  cave — 

Men  of  the  mighty  trees, 

I  am  come  home  again ! 

I  am  the  son  of  him 

Once  they  called  Heavy  Hand ; 

Born  in  that  shelter  there, 

Fed  from  these  teeming  woods, 

Cooled  by  this  little  stream — 

Now  will  you  hear  me, 

Hear  why  I  came  again, 

Came  home  to  kill? 

When  I  saw  Broken  Foot 

Limp  from  his  stolen  cave, 

Only  my  comrade, 

My  weapon,  spoke  for  me, 

Swift  words,  without  answer! 

Yet,  unto  you, 

As  unto  brothers 

Gathered  together 


THECAVEMAN  13 

In  the  cave's  quiet, 

Now  would  I  speak 

Bidding  my  weapon 

Among  you  be  still. 

I  would  be  friends  with  you. 

(He  throws  down  his  stone  axe,  leaving  him 
self  unarmed.) 

Say,  will  you  hear? 

(They  do  not  pick  up  the  weapon,  but  gesture 
to  proceed.    LONG  ARM  comes  nearer.) 

I  was  a  boy  here 

Under  these  trees ! 

No  one  in  all  the  wood 

Had  such  a  cave  as  we ; 

Room  to  stand  up  in  it, 

Dry  through  the  times  of  rain, 

Narrow  the  mouth  of  it, 

Choked  with  great  boulders, 

All  of  my  father's  strength 

Needed  to  move  them 

Morning  and  night; 

That  is  the  cave  there, — 

I  have  come  home! 

Here  we  lived  happily, 

Proud  of  our  cave, 

Proud  of  my  father's  strength, 

Glad  of  the  game  he  killed, 

And  my  mother  was  deft, 

Taking  the  skins  he  brought, 

Scraping  the  blood  side, 

Fastening  the   edges, 

So  she  made  clothes. 

Joyful  my  father  brought 

Beasts  from  the  forest; 

Sure  was  his  aim 

With  the  stones  that  he  threw; 

Mighty  the  skull-crashing 

Blows  he  could  deal  with  them; 

All  of  the  cave  men 

Knew  and  feared  Heavy  Hand; 

Greatly  I  loved  him, 

He  was  my  father. 

You  that  remember  him 
Know  how  he  went  away 


14  THECAVEMAN 

And  came  not  again. 

He  that  lies  yonder 

Where  I  have  thrown  him 

For  the  night  beasts  to  clear  away, 

Broken  Foot,  the  false  brother, 

He  might  have  told  the  tale ; 

Blood  fills  his  mouth  now, 

Spilled  from  his  cloven  skull ; 

The  boy  has  come  home ! 

Then  let  me  tell. 

(He  comes  down  to  the  others  and  sits  zvith 
them.) 

Season  of  winter  rain, 
Season  of  summer  sun, 
They  had  gone  over  us, 
Both  for  each  finger 
Here   on   my   hands, 
There,  by  the  pool's  edge, 
One  day  my  father  sat 
Shaping  a  stone 
Into  a  weapon 
Fit  for  his  hand. 
Near,   on  a   sunny  rock, 
Sprawling  I  lay, 
Rapt  in  a  child's  play — 
I  was  a  lizard, 
Flat   in  the   sun, — 
There,  as  my  father  wrought, 
To  him  came  Broken  Foot, 
Brothers  they  were, 
Cave-born  together, 
Sharing  their  mother's  milk, 
Tearing  the  meat 
Their  father  had  killed  for  them 
Ere  they  could  kill ; 
So  they  had  grown  up, 
Mated  and  parted ; 
Yet  ever  my  father, 
Here  in  the  cave  he  found, 
Welcomed  his  brother, 
Sharing  our  beds  of  leaves, 
Sharing  his  kill ; 
Hear  how  he  paid ! 
Making  his  weapon, 
Here  by  the  pool's  edge, 
To  him  came  Broken  Foot, 
Hiding  his  evil  thoughts. 
Greatly  he  coveted 


THE    CAVE    M  A'N  15 

The  warmth  of  our  cave, 

Hot  was  his  lust 

For  the  arms  of  my  mother; 

So  with  a  snake's  tongue 

He  came  to  my  father, 

Calling  him  brother, 

Told  of  a  wondrous  place 

Where  there  was  food. 

Far  did  it  lie  from  here, 

Far  in  an  open  land, 

Out  of  the  trees; 

Where  he  had  learned  of  it 

Never  I  knew, 

But  as  he  told  of  it, 

Wide-eyed  and  breathless 

Marked  I  this  tale. 

[The  orchestra  here  begins  a  musical  accom 
paniment  to  the  narrative.] 
There  was  a  snare  set, — 
Not  by  the  hands  of  men! 
Huge  it  was  spread 
Over  that  open  land; 
Out  of  the  marshy  ground, 
Black  as  a  starless  night, 
Oozed  up  a  sticky  slime 
At  the  edge  of  a  pool. 
As   from  the  tree  trunks 
Under  the  noonday  sun 
The  tree  blood  oozes, 
Sticky  and  warm, 
And  little  flying  things,  lighting, 
Are  caught  there  to  die, 
So   said   Broken   Foot 
Then  to  my  father, 
Birds  and  beasts 
Whose  flesh  is  our  food, 
Coming  to  drink  there 
Are  snared  in  the  tar ! 
Rabbits  and  squirrels, 
The  big  wading  heron, 
The  bison  and  camel, 
Even  the  deer, 
Fleeter  than  all, 
Fast  were  they  held  there, 
Rooted  like  water-plants 
Deep  in  the  mire ; 
Hearing  their  cries, 
The  coyote  came  creeping, 


16  THE     CAVE     MAN 

Came  the  great  condor 

Swooping  to   feed  on 

The  dead  that  were  rotting  there ; 

Never  they  came  again ! 

Fleet  foot  and  spreading  wings 

Helped  them  no  more. 

Eagerly  listened 

My  father  to  Broken  Foot, 

Telling  these  wonders, 

Naming  this  food  trap 

Filled  for  the  taking; 

Then  he  told  more : 

To  the  tar  pool  the  bleating 

And  whine  of  the  trapped  ones 

Drew  from  a  distance 

The  wolves  and  the  lions, 

Called  from  his  secret  lair 

Him  our  old  enemy, 

The  sabre-tooth  tiger; 

There,  with  their  dripping  fangs, 

Came  the  great  beasts  of  blood, 

Lustful  for  prey; 

Then  as  they  seized  it, 

Snared  there  and  held  for  them, 

Sudden  the  sticky  slime 

Closed  its  black  fingers 

Fast  on  those  bloody  paws, — 

Naught  was  their  strength  to  them, 

All  that  the  cave  man  fears 

Struggled  there,  helpless 

In  the  clutch  of  the  tar. 

Listening  to  Broken  Foot 
Tell  of  this  death-trap, 
Up  sprang  my  father. 
Hot  with  the  hunting  lust ; 
Into  the  forest 
The  cave  men  set  forth ; 
Me  they  forgot, 
Flat  on  my  sunny  rock, 
But  lizard  no  more ! 
Cub  of  the  timber  wolf, 
Son  of  my  hunting  sire, 
I  followed  their  feet. 

Hugely  my  father  raged 
When  toward  evening 


THE     CAVE     MAN  17 

I  sought  him  for  safety, 
Far  from  the  cave 
And  the  side  of  my  mother; 
Gladly  had  Broken  Foot 
Killed  me  at  sight  of  me, 
But  for  fear  of  my  father ; 
So,  when  the  morning, 
Lighted  the  stranger  wood 
Still  we  went  on. 

Days  through  the   forest 

Broken  Foot  led  us; 

False  was  his  heart; 

But  his  story  was  true. 

All  of  my  life 

I  shall  remember 

What  we  found  there 

Out  in  the  open  plain ; 

Never  have  cave  eyes 

Looked  on  such  stores  of  game, 

Hunter  and  hunted 

Lying  together, 

Blending  their  cries, 

Bleating  and  fighting, 

With  death  and  each  other. 

Few  words  will  tell  the  rest; 
Brief  was  the  time  of  it, 
Long  have  the  years  been 
That  brought  me   revenge. 

(He  springs  to  his  feet.) 
Gladly  my  father 
Leaped  to  the   water's  edge, 
Loudly  he  laughed 
In  the  joy  of  the  hunter 
Beholding  the  quarry  there; 
Far  over  he  leaned — 
Over  that  pool  of  death — 
Trusting  the  arm 

Of  the  brother  who  led  him  there; 
Trusting  the  heart 
Of  the  man  that  betrayed  him    .     .    . 

(He  utters  a  wild  cry  which  is  echoed  in  the 
orchestra.) 

Ah,  I  have  lived  since  then 
Hearing  that  awful  cry, 
Long  drawn  and  anguished; 


18  THECAVEMAN 

Hearing  that  wail  of  fear 

Rise  above  all  their  cries — 

Voices  of  dying  beasts, 

Trapped  there  and  terrified; 

Voice  of  a  man  betrayed, 

Calling  his  little  son, 

All   blending   in   agony — 

Helpless  I  heard 

Over  that  roar  of  death 

The  shrieks  of  my  father 

Till  in  the  crawling  slime 

He  choked  and     .     .     . 

[The  orchestral  accompaniment  ceases.] 

Now  is  that  cry  hushed, 
It  rings  in  my  ears  no  more. 
Grown  to  a  man's  might, 
Here  on  this  hillside, 
Here  by  this  cave's  mouth, 
I  have  heard  Broken  Foot 
Utter  his  death-sob, 
Strangled  with  blood. 
I  am  come  home  again, 
Fain  would  I  rest 
Under  these  longed  for  trees. 
Who  says  me  nay? 

fScAR  FACE)  picks  up  the  weapon  which  has 
lain  where  LONG  ARM  threw  it,  and  hands  it  to 
him.) 

SCAR  FACE:  Take  your  weapon  again.  Broken  Foot  had  no 
man's  love.  In  all  the  caves  the  talk  ran  that 
his  cave  was  stolen  and  his  mate  likewise. 

LONG  ARM  :         And  she — 

SCAR  FACE  :  She  died,  some  years  gone,  men  say  from  cruel 
use. 

FISH  EYES  :  How  did  you  get  away  from  Broken  Foot  after 
he  had  thrust  Heavy  Hand  into  the  pool? 

LONG  ARM:  Swift-footed  with  terror,  I  ran  from  that  place, 
I  ran  to  the  river  and  loosened  a  log  that  was 
nuzzling  the  bank.  The  tide  took  me  away, 
though  he  followed  hard  after,  shrieking  with 
anger  and  hurling  stones,  some  of  which  bruised 
me.  Yet  I  clung  to  the  log.  And  so  I  went 
down  with  the  stream  until  I  saw  a  great  lake 
whose  water  heaved  uneasily,  though  there  was 


THECAVEMAN  19 


no  wind  at  all,  and  broke  upon  the  sand  with  a 
roar  that  filled  the  air.  There  was  no  shore  at 
the  other  side  of  that  lake.  As  the  log  bore  me 
toward  that  roaring  water,  I  slid  off  and  swam, 
but  the  water  came  after  me  and  caught  me  and 
rolled  me  over  on  the  sand.  The  water  was  not 
sweet  like  the  river.  It  was  harsh  in  my  mouth 
and  I  was  sick  at  it.  I  crept  over  the  sand  out 
of  the  water's  reach,  and  again  it  followed  me, 
but  I  crept  farther  and  at  last  it  ceased  to  chase 
me,  and  went  back  slowly  to  where  it  had 
been.  As  I  lay  there,  wondering  at  these  things, 
two  men  found  me.  They  were  not  like  our 
people.  They  live  by  the  bitter  water,  on  huge 
mounds  of  shells  and  bones,  left  there  from  the 
food  of  their  fathers  and  their  fathers'  fathers. 
And  mingled  with  the  bones  and  shells  are  the 
bones  of  those  who  have  lived  and  died  there. 
They  are  the  Shell  People,  and  they  were  very 
good  to  me,  and  I  lived  with  them  and  grew 
to  be  a  man.  But  ever  I  longed  for  the  cave 
under  the  mighty  trees,  for  the  shell  mounds 
were  bare  and  treeless,  and  the  mounds  and  the 
bitter  water  were  evil  smelling,  and  I  thought 
of  our  ferns  and  vines  and  the  pleasant  odor  of 
the  green  tips  on  the  branches  of  our  great  red 
trees.  And  always  I  thought  of  Broken  Foot 
and  the  hate  I  bore  him.  Therefore,  when  I 
became  a  man,  with  strength  like  his,  I  took 
leave  of  the  Shell  People  and  followed  the  river 
into  the  forest,  past  the  deadly  tar  pool  that 
clutched  my  father,  and  on  into  the  trees.  So  I 
came  home ! 

SCAR  FACE  :  The  cave  is  yours  again.  Yet  Broken  Foot 
could  fight  better  than  any  man  of  the  caves. 
What  is  this  new  weapon  that  has  stopped  his 
fighting  ? 

LONG  ARM  :  Always,  as  I  followed  the  river,  I  thought  of  my 
meeting  with  Broken  Foot;  of  his  great  arms, 
and  the  mighty  blows  he  gave  with  his  knife. 
I  knew  my  arms  were  shorter  than  his  and  no 
stronger.  And  so  it  came  to  me  one  day  to 
make  my  arm  longer  with  strong  wood,  and  to 
set  my  sharp  flint  in  the  wood's  hand,  that  I 
might  better  fight  with  Broken  Foot.  I  gave 
the  wood  a  hand,  stronger  than  mine,  by  split- 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


SCAR  FACE  : 


SHORT  LEGS 

FISH  EYES  : 
ONE  EYE  : 


FISH  EYES 
SCAR  FACE 
SHORT  LEGS 

ONE  EYE  : 


ting  the  end  a  little  and  binding  it  with  thongs. 
So  my  weapon  was  made.  I  have  named  it  the 
axe. 

I  shall  make  one,  too,  but  I  shall  make  it  a  little 
better. 

fONE    EYE    enters,    running,    breathless    and 
fainting.) 

Ai-i,  it  is  One  Eye,  the  aged,  far  from  his 
cave ! 

Quick,  tell  us  the  danger. 

The  man-beast! 

(All  but  LONG  ARM   spring  together  in  de 
fense.) 

The  man-beast!     Near  us? 

I  do  not  know.  Listen !  I  am  an  old  man,  with 
much  sorrow.  There  was  a  time  when  I  was 
young  and  strong  as  you,  but  I  have  no  breath 
for  that  now.  My  son,  who  gave  me  shelter  in 
his  cave,  has  been  taken  by  a  lion.  I  was  left 
alone,  old  and  feeble,  with  but  half  my  sight, 
unable  to  get  meat.  I  must  brave  the  forest  and 
make  my  way  to  the  cave  of  my  other  son  or 
starve,  for  there  is  no  fruit  or  nuts  now.  So, 
when  the  day  broke  bright,  I  started.  Once,  as  I 
rested,  listening,  I  heard  feet  like  a  man's  pass 
ing  among  the  trees.  I  should  have  aid  to  my 
son!  But  I  did  not  cry  out.  I  waited.  Then 
he  came,  and  I  sickened  with  despair  and  the 
knowledge  that  my  life  was  over.  Even  an  old 
man,  whose  days  are  filled  with  weariness  and 
fear,  clings  to  his  life  at  the  end.  It  was  not  a 
man  of  the  caves.  It  was  the  hideous  man-beast 
that  has  been  gone  so  long  from  our  woods 
that  we  had  ceased  to  dread  him.  He  is  a  man 
that  has  no  speech;  a  beast  that  has  fingers  like 
ours  and  can  throw  stories  as  we  do.  He  is  a 
beast  that  is  hot  for  our  women ;  a  man  that  can 
have  no  young.  He  is  neither  man  nor  beast, 
but  he  has  thoughts  like  a  man  and  his  strength 
is  the  strength  of  two  men  in  their  prime.  Al 
ways  we  of  the  cave  have  known  that  to  meet 
him  is  death. 


THECAVEMAN 


SCAR  FACE  :         Yet  you  have  got  away  ! 

ONE;  EYE):  It  is  like  the  things  we  do  in  sleep;  it  does  not 

belong  to  the  day.  I  lay  flat  on  the  ground, 
almost  dead  with  fear.  It  may  be  he  thought 
me  truly  so,  for  he  gazed  at  me,  for  an  instant, 
questioning.  But  no,  he  was  following  some 
thing,  and  all  his  senses  were  keen  for  the  chase 
of  that  prey,  whatever  it  was.  He  had  no  care 
for  me,  gray  and  withered  on  the  ground.  With 
little  gleaming  eyes  and  panting  breath,  with  his 
great  teeth  clicking,  he  passed  on  and  his  foot 
steps  ceased  in  the  distance.  When  my  fear 
had  gone  so  that  these  old  legs  would  bear  me, 
I  set  forth  running.  The  day  has  been  good 
to  me  again! 

LONG  ARM  :  I  am  Long  Arm.  With  my  stone  axe  I  have 
slain  Broken  Foot,  who  stole  our  cave,  and  the 
cave  is  mine  again.  You  may  rest  with  me  and 
the  man  -beast  shall  not  harm  you. 

ONE;  EYE:  I    remember    Heavy    Hand,    your    father,    and 

Broken  Foot's  story  of  the  tiger  that  took  you 
both.  If  you  are  a  true  son  of  your  father  your 
cave  will  be  good  to  live  in.  But  no  man  may 
stand  against  the  beast  that  walks  like  a  man; 
only  a  well-blocked  cave  is  safe.  I  must  go  to 
my  son  and  warn  him  and  we  will  be  watchful. 
There  are  three  men  here  who  can  take  me  to 
his  cave.  Will  you  help  me? 

FISH  EYES  :  We  will  take  you,  One  Eye,  and  on  our  way 
we'll  warn  the  caves  we  pass.  The  clouds  grow 
thick  again. 

(All  go  up  the  hillside.   LONG  ARM  rolls  back 
the  boulders  at  the  cave's  mouth.) 

SCAR  FACE;  :  Good  rest  to  you,  Long  Arm,  safe  sleep  at  home 
again.  If  Broken  Foot's  skull  has  turned  the 
edge  of  the  axe,  you  would  best  sharpen  it 
against  the  man-beast's  coming. 

ONE:  EYE  :  Trust  no  edge  of  stone  against  that  evil  strength. 

LONG  ARM  :         The    axe,    new   sharpened,    and   the    cave,    new 
found,  shall  serve  you  all  in  any  hour  of  danger. 
(He  goes  into  the  cave.) 

SCAR  FACE  :  You  do  not  know  the  wonder  of  that  new 
weapon.  I  shall  make  one,  also,  but  I  shall  make 
it  a  great  deal  better. 


22  THECAVEMAN 

FISH  EYES  :         Which  way  lies  your  son's  cave  ? 
ONE;  EYE;  :  Toward  the  new  sunlight. 

(They  disappear  in  the  forest.  LONG  ARM 
comes  from  the  cave  singing  the  song  of  the 
Hint.  During  its  progress  he  seats  himself  on 
the  rocks  above  the  big  pool  and  finally  strikes 
with  the  Hint,  sending  up  sparks.) 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  FLINT. 

LONG  ARM:         Flint  in  my  hand! 

All  the  wood  waits  for  me; 

I  am  its  master 

While  there  is  sunlight, 

While  I  can  see. 

Sharpened  and  shaped  for  me, 

Lashed  to  my  oaken  arm, 

Strike  at  my  quarry  now, 

Bite  to  the  heart, 

Hungry  tooth  of  the  flint ! 

Strike ! 

Flint  on  flint; 

Send  up  the  little  stars 

That  fade  ere  they  fly. 

I  shall  bring  home  with  me, 

Home  to  my  cave, 

Beasts  that  have  longed  for  me, 

Followed  me,  sprung  at  me 

Out  of  the  shadow 

Into  the  sun; 

Scarred  with  the  flint's  bite, 

Blood-drip  to  mark  the  path, 

We  shall  come  dragging  them, 

We  shall  come  home  with  them, 

The  black  flint  and  I ! 

Strike !  Strike ! 

Flint  on  flint, 

Spark  after  spark; 

Wake  from  your  black  depths 

The  lights  that  go  flashing 

Like  the  bright  bugs  that  play 

Over  water  at  evening. 

Men  of  the  neighbor  caves, 
Thev  shall  behold  us 


THECAVEMAN  23 

Hunting  together, 
Laden  with  spoil ; 
They  shall  make  way  for  us ; 
Give  us  a  free  road 
Home  to  our  rest; 
He  that  would  bar  us 
Shall  lie  in  the  leaves! 
And  from  the  cave-mouths, 
Eyes  like  the  young  deer's 
Shall  follow  with  longing 
The  feet  of  the  hunter, 
While   we   come   home 
The  black  flint  and  I! 

Strike!   Strike!   Strike! 

Flint  on  flint, 

Spark   after   spark, 

Faster  and  faster; 

Out  of  the   dark, 

Out  of  the  heart  of  the  oak 

And  the  flint's  black  belly, 

The  friend  that  shall  fight  for  me, 

Smite  for  me,  bite  for  me, 

My  weapon  is  born! 

(At  the  conclusion  of  the  song  he  discovers 
a  tongue  of  flame  rising  from  the  place  ivhere 
he  has  been  working.  The  theme  of  fire  has 
entered  in  the  orchestra.  LONG  ARM  gazes  at 
the  flame  with  surprise  then  curiosity  and  cau 
tion.  To  him  it  is  some  kind  of  bright  serpent. 
He  steals  upon  it  with  his  weapon  and  strikes  it. 
Then  he  seizes  it,  supposing  it  dead;  it  burns 
him  like  a  bite,  and  with  a  cry  he  shakes  it  from 
him  and  it  falls  by  chance  into  the  pool,  with  a 
sharp  hiss:  He  looks  after  it  with  eagerness, 
shaking  his  stinging  hand.  He  examines  the 
pool  and  finally  draivs  forth  the  extinguished 
brand.  He  gazes  at  it,  lost  in  thought.  Just 
here  there  is  an  interruption  in  the  orchestral 
accompaniment  and  the  theme  of  the  Song  of 
the^  Flint  reoccurs,  illustrating  his  thought. 
With  a  cry  0/  understanding,  he  springs  up  the 
rocks  and  strikes  again,  flint  upon  Hint.  Again 
the  sparks  fiy  up  and  the  fire  is  kindled.  Cau 
tiously  LONG  ARM  lifts  the  end  of  the  brand, 
examines  the  name,  then  comes  down  the  rock's 
in  childish  delight,  ^vaving  his  new  plaything  and 


24  THECAVEMAN 

lighting  other  twigs  with  it.  As  he  does  this,  the 
sound  of  a  cave  maiden  singing  light  heartedly 
is  heard  at  a  distance.  LONG  ARM  stops 
his  play  and  listens.  As  the  singing  draws  nearer, 
the  brand,  forgotten,  falls  from  his  hand  and 
burns  out  upon  the  rock.  During  the  progress 
of  the  song  SINGING  BIRD  enters  on  the  hill  and 
pauses  at  a  rock  where  the  little  stream  bab 
bles  over.  Here  she  sits,  dipping  her  hands  in 
the  water  where  it  sparkles  among  the  ferns, 
ivhile  her  song  goes  on.  Toward  its  height  she 
holds  out  her  arms  to  the  sun  and  rises  ivith 
the  passion  of  the  song;  at  its  close,  she  spies 
two  doves,  billing  upon  a  branch  above  her  head. 
As  she  gazes  at  these,  in  a  rapture  of  sympathy, 
a  great  yellow  butterfly  sails  by  her,  pursued  by 
another.  SINGING  BIRD  darts  after  them,  but 
they  wheel  and  elude  her  and  are  gone.  She 
plays  with  a  blossoming  vine  and  picks  some  of 
the  bloom.  Then  she  looks  down  upon  the  big 
pool  and  discovers  that  its  waters  are  quiet  and 
will  serve  as  a  mirror.  With  a  little  cry  of  de 
light  she  comes  down  the  rocks  to  the  pool  and, 
gazing  at  herself,  twines  the  blossoms  in  her 
mass  of  hair.) 

THE  SPRING  SONG  OF  THE 
CAVE  MAIDEN 

Warm  slept  I  in  the  cave's  deep  shadow,  sweet 

with  love  was  my  dream ! 
I  dreamed  that  I  roved, 

Far  following  a  pathway  strange,  beside  an  un 
known  stream — 
There  was  I  loved ! 
Although  I  fled  he  caught  me,  his  great  limbs 

held  my  feet, 
Strongly  he  held  me  near, 
Ah,  mightily  pressed, 
Yet,  struggling  not,  I  lay  there,  strangely  still 

nor  fain  to  be  fleet; 
Glad  of  his  breast! 

Within  the  cave  I  woke  and  heard  the  stream 
Murmur  his  words, 
Whispering  near ; 

My  bosom  answered,  throbbing  with  my  dream; 
The  call  of  mating  birds 
Filled  my  ear; 


THECAVEMAN  25 


The  woodland  spoke 
A  message  clear 
When  I  awoke  ! 
So   came   I   down   the   sunlit  path  that  leads   I 

know   not   where,  — 
Dear  sun,  be  my  guide  ! 
My  blood  with  love  is  warm  as  thou  hast  made 

the  quickening  air  ; 
Spring  flows  full  tide. 
Above  me,  see,  the  tender  doves  are  billing  with 

trembling  wings 
On  every  tree; 
Oh  joy  of  spring,  the  world  is   full  of  happy 

mating  things, 
Welcoming  me  ! 

For  I  shall  find  my  lover  by  some  stream, 
And  shall  not  flee 
From  his  will; 

And  all  the  aching  sweetness  of  my  dream 
Our  happiness  to  be 

Shall  fulfill; 
Even   apart, 

No  time  shall  still 
His  beating  heart  ! 
Shine,  shine  on  me,  dear  sun,  and  lead  me,  fol 

lowing  thy  beams, 
To  where  he  may  wait  ; 
Oh  joy  of  spring,  oh  love  more  warm  than  sun, 

more  dear  than  dreams, 
Give  me  my  mate  ! 


ARM  has  hidden  at  her  approach.  Now 
he  steals  tozvard  her.  But  she  catches  his  re 
flection  in  the  pool  and  with  a  shrill  cry  she  leaps 
up  the  rocks.  He  does  not  follow,  but  calls  to 
her,  tenderly,  and  she  pauses  and  turns  tozvard 
him.) 

LONG  ARM  :  Ah,  do  not  run  from  me.  Hear  who  I  am.  I 
saw  you  yesterday  and  you  stopped  your  song. 
Yet  I  did  not  follow  you,  though  my  heart  beat 
fast  at  your  beauty.  For  though  I  had  never 
longed  for  a  woman  till  I  saw  you  in  the  blos 
soming  glade,  I  had  a  man's  work  to  do  before  I 
followed  love.  I  talked  with  your  father;  he 
knows  I  came  to  fight  only  one  man  of  all  these 
woods.  Him  I  have  fought  and  killed,  and  I 
have  got  again  the  cave  he  stole  from  my  father. 


26  THECAVEMAN 

The  cave  is  warm  and  high,  but  ah,  it  is  empty 
and  I  want  you  for  it ! 

(He  moves  toward  her,  but  she  springs  away.) 

LONG  ARM  :  Do  not  run,  I  shall  follow.  See,  there  is  no 
cave  like  this  in  all  the  wood ;  there  is  no  weapon 
like  the  stone  axe  I  have  made.  Food  you  shall 
have,  in  plenty,  and  warm  leaves  in  a  dry  cave 
and  no  enemy  shall  come  near  you  for  none  may 
stand  against  this  axe  of  mine.  And  we  shall 
be  warm  and  safe  here  with  sweet  water  fall 
ing,  and  you  shall  sing  all  day  in  the  pleasant 
sun.  And  on  these  rocks,  where  long  ago  I 
played,  our  little  brown  babes  shall  laugh  and 
tumble,  and  we  shall  watch  them,  smiling  and 
without  fear.  And  look,  we  shall  teach  them  the 
wonderful  thing  I  have  learned  today:  how  to 
make  the  little  stars  fly  out  in  the  daylight,  and 
how  to  catch  a  bit  of  the  sun  to  play  with.  Look, 
I  will  show  you  what  I  can  do! 

(While  she  is  on  the  tiptoe  of  escape  at 
every  move  he  makes,  he  succeeds  in  making  the 
fire  again.  She  watches  the  process  with  grow 
ing  fascination.  As  the  flame  burns  up  brightly 
she  draws  nearer  to  him  with  open  mouth.  As  the 
fire  is  being  thus  displayed  to  the  wonder  of  the 
cave  maiden,  the  theme  of  the  MAN-BEAST  enters 
in  the  orchestra,  and  the  MAN-BEAST  comes 
creeping  stealthily  down  from  the  upper  levels. 
He  disappears  midway  down  the  hillside,  but  re 
appears  immediately  on  the  overhanging  ledge 
above  the  cave  and  stands  there,  grinning  evilly 
at  the  pair  beloiv  him.  Occupied  with  the  fire 
they  are  unaware  of  their  danger.) 

LONG  ARM  :  See  how  the  little  stars  fly  up  ?  Soon  there  will 
be  a  big  star  lying  in  the  grass.  I  thought  it 
was  a  snake  at  first  and  that  I  could  kill  it.  It 
is  not  a  snake,  though  it  will  bite  you  if  you  let 
it  touch  you.  But  if  it  is  angry  I  can  stop  it  in 
the  water.  See  !  Come  closer  and  see  ! 

( The  MAN-BEAST  loosens  stones  at  the  edge  of 
the  cliff  and  they  clatter  down.  With  a  cry, 
the  cave  maiden  springs  toward  LONG  ARM  for 
protection.  He  puts  his  arm  around  her  and  to 
gether  they  stand  for  an  instant,  transfixed  ivith 
terror.  The  MAN-BEAST  descends  the  cliff,  bar- 


THECAVEMAN  27 

ring  escape  to  the  cave.  The  man  and  woman 
turn  and  flee  down  the  rocks,  but  the  man  turns 
suddenly  and  braves  the  creature,  that  the  woman 
may  escape.  He  has  picked  up  his  axe  where  he 
dropped  it  when  he  found  the  fire;  the  brand  he 
was  displaying  to  the  woman  lies  on  the  rocks 
still  burning.  The  MAN-BEAST  rushes  upon 
LONG  ARM.  LONG  ARM  brandishes  his  axe 
and  the  MAN-BEAST  seizes  it  and  wrenches  it 
from  him  and  breaks  it  with  his  hands,  as  though 
it  were  a  twig.  Then,  before  LONG  ARM  can 
get  away  from  him,  he  seizes  him  and  proceeds 
to  crush  him  in  his  hideous  arms.  At  this  mo 
ment  the  womant  who  paused  in  her  flight  and 
looked  back,  utters  a  cry  of  concern.  The  MAN- 
BEAST  hurls  LONG  ARM  to  the  ground  and  starts 
lumbering  after  the  woman.  She  tries  desper 
ately  to  circle  him  and  get  to  the  cave.  She 
evades  him,  but  he  follows  her  to  the  cave's 
mouth.  LONG  ARM,  merely  stunned,  recovers, 
and  seizes  the  fire  brand,  remembering  its  bite, 
and  attacks  the  MAN-BEAST  as  he  reaches  the 
woman  at  the  cave.  LONG  ARM  strikes  a  blow 
with  the  brand.  The  MAN-BEAST  turns  snarling. 
LONG  ARM  strikes  him  in  the  face  and  drives 
him  howling  into  the  woods.  LONG  ARM  returns 
in  triumph,  singing  the  music  of  the  Spring 
Song,  in  which  SINGING  BIRD  joins  from  the 
entrance  of  the  cave.) 

THE    SONG   OF   MATING 

THE  MAN. 
Lo,  I  have  filled  him  with  terror ; 

From    the    fire    he    fled    away! 
No  more  my  cave  shall  fear  him, 

I  shall  keep  him  still  at  bay. 
Before  my  cave  the  fire  shall  burn 

Through  all  the  terror  haunted  night, 
And  all  the  wondering  woods  shall  learn 

How  mightily  these  comrades  fight, 
The  fire  and  I! 

THE  WOMAN. 
How  can  it  be  he  has  conquered, 

Alone  and  unaided  by  stone ! 
Happy  and  safe  will  his  cave  be, 

Although  he  shall  guard  it  alone. 


28  THECAVEMAN 

THE:  MAN. 

Ah,  see,  my  cave  is  waiting, 
Safely  guarded  from  harms, 

Share  it  with  me ! 
My  bed  of  leaves  is  lonely, 
Closely  folded  in  my  arms, 
Warm  wilt  thou  be. 

THE  WOMAN. 

Ah,  like  a  leaf  that  the  river 
Tenderly  floats  to  rest 

Upon  the  shore, 
A  tide  of  love  now  bears  me 
Blissfully  to  his  breast, 
To  wander  no  more. 

THE  MAN. 

And  all  night  long  together  we  shall  rest 
And  feel  the  throbbing  of  each  other's  breast, 
And  closely,  softly,  warmly  lie 
In  the  cave's   deep  shelter,  thou  and  I ; 
Come,  share  my  cave,  the  leaves  await. 

THE  WOMAN. 
Take  me,  take  me  for  thy  mate ! 

THE  MAN  AND  THE  WOMAN. 

Ah,  see,  the  cave  is  waiting,  safely  guarded  from 
harms, 

Warm  will  we  be ; 
On  leafy  bed  soft  lying,  closely  held  in  thy  arms, 

Mating  with  thee ! 

(At  the  conclusion  of  the  song  the  man  and 
woman,  who  have  embraced,  enter  the  cave;  the 
two  boulders  are  rolled  against  its  mouth,  and 
the  daylight  fades  into  darkness  as  the  music 
of  the  Spring  Song  is  lifted  into  the  ecstasy  of 
primal  joy.) 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


SCAR  FACE;  : 
LONG  ARM  : 
SCAR  FACE)  : 

LONG  ARM  : 


FISH  EYES  : 
LONG  ARM  : 

WOLF  SKIN 


INTERMEZZO. 

(This  orchestral  interlude  is  in  the  form  of  a 
dance  descriptive  of  the  Hitting  of  fire-hies  in  the 
gathering  darkness  and  representing  the  joy  of 
the  mated  lovers  in  the  cave.  During  the  inter 
mezzo  fire -files  dart  hither  and  thither  above  the 
pools.  They  are  few  at  first  but  the  number 
increases  until  the  air  is  filled  vvith  tiny  flashes 
of  fire.) 

Acrll. 

(Out  of  the  intense  darkness  a  small  fiame 
starts  up  in  front  of  the  cave.  The  fire  grows, 
lighting  up  the  faces  and  figures  of  the  mated 
cave  lovers,  and  flickers  brightly  on  the  grim 
face  of  the  cliff.  LONG  ARM  and  SINGING  BIRD 
have  built  a  fire  in  front  of  their  cave.  SINGING 
BIRD  brings  out  the  remnant  of  the  deer  and 
lays  it  on  the  rock  by  the  fire.  As  the  fire  burns 
brightly;  voices  are  heard  on  the  hill.) 

(calling  down)  Long  Arm! 
Who's  there? 

Your   friends   who   saw  you   kill   Broken   Foot 
Give  us  shelter  for  the  night. 
I  have  promised  it  and  you  shall  have  it,— yet 
you  are  not  welcome. 

/SCAR  FACE;,  FISH  EYES,  SHORT  LEGS,  and 
WOLF  SKIN  enter  and  descend  part  way.  The 
woman  goes  into  the  cave.) 

What  shines  so  bright  before  you,  making  false 
day  before  your  cave? 

I  have  found  a  fighting  friend,  better  even  than 
the  axe  [  showed  you.  I  have  called  it  fire. 
It  will  not  hurt  you.  Come  down  and  learn  of  it. 

(They  descend.) 

I  had  a  daughter,  Singing  Bird,  the  girl  you 
saw  yesterday,  in  the  open  glade.  When  day 
was  fading  she  had  not  come  back  to  the  cave 
ihen  came  these  friends  and  told  me  of  the 
man-beast,  who  is  once  more  in  the  forest  after 
many  years.  Together  we  have  sought  the  girl 
and  we  have  no  hope  now,  for  the  night  has 
come  upon  us.  We  gave  up  our  search  and 
found  the  nearest  cave.  All  we  ask  is  shelter 
from  the  perils  of  the  dark;  we  cannot  hope  for 
news. 


30 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


LONG  ARM:  If  this  night  were  like  last  night  and  all  the 
nights  that  have  been  but  shall  never  be  again, 
I  might  answer  you  in  words,  spoken  in  the  dark 
cave.  But  the  fire  I  have  found  gives  light  in 
darkness  and  gives  you  answer  as  well.  Look 
there ! 

(He  points  to  SINGING  BIRD  at  the  entrance 
to  the  cave.) 

WOLF  SKIN  :  A-ah !  No  words  are  needed.  I  knew  that 
Broken  Foot  went  but  a  short  way  toward  my 
cave  to  take  my  girl  for  mate ;  I  did  not  know 
that  Long  Arm  makes  love  and  war  together. 

(The  MAN-BEAST  enters  unseen  on  the  hill 
side.) 

LONG  ARM  :  I  have  done  more.  The  man-beast  came  upon 
us  as  I  wooed  my  mate.  With  his  hands  he 
broke  my  axe  as  though  it  were  a  twig.  Then, 
with  a  brand  of  fire,  like  this,  I  drove  him  from 
this  place.  The  bite  of  the  fire  is  worse  than 
the  bite  of  stone.  It  is  not  that  only.  The  fire 
is  a  terror  to  the  man-beast  and  we  are  safe 
from  him.  See,  you  shall  learn  to  take  it — so ! 

(He  shows  them  hoiv  to  handle  the  brands.) 
[Music.  The  theme  of  fire  begins  in  the  or 
chestra.} 

FISH  EY£S  :  Everywhere  in  the  woods  beside  us,  animals  are 
standing.  Their  eyes  shine,  but  they  dare  not 
come  nearer. 

WOLF  SKIN  :       The  night  is  changed  for  man ! 
SHORT  LEGS :       Scar  Face  is  eating  again  ! 

SCAR  FACE  :  Aye,  and  such  food  as  Scar  Face  never  ate  be 
fore.  This  fire  of  yours  is  a  friend  indeed. 
Broken  Foot  killed  meat  this  mornnig  and  I 
ate  of  it,  in  ignorance,  I  was  so  proud  of  what 
I  knew!  Broken  Foot  hung  the  meat  in  the 
cave.  Now  your  fire  has  made  it  sweeter  to  the 
mouth  than  any  berry  ripened  in  the  sun.  The 
fire  is  greater  than  the  sun.  The  sun  spoils 
the  meat  it  shines  on,  but  the  firelight  has  made 
this  sweeter  than  meat  warm  with  blood.  There 
shall  be  fire  always  in  my  cave.  Taste  of  this 
meat,  you  eaters  of  raw  flesh. 

(All  crowd  about  the  fire  and  taste  of  the 
meat.) 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


31 


SHORT  LEGS:  I  am  not  yet  mated,  but  I  shall  find  somebody 
somewhere  and  then  I  shall  ask  Singing  Bird 
to  teach  her  to  make  meat  taste  like  this. 

SCAR  FACE  :  The  fire  is  warm  and  pleasant  and  I  have  eaten 
well.  Let  us  sleep  here  with  the  fire  to  guard  us. 
(Yawns.) 

(All  drop  sloivly  to  sleep.  While  they  have 
been  testing  the  brands  and  finally  eating,  the 
MAN-BEAST  has  entered  to  his  theme  in  the  or 
chestra  and  has  stood  watching  from  the  edge  of 
the  firelight.  As  they  yawn  and  stretch  and  fall 
asleep  together  round  "the  fire,  the  woman  takes 
the  remnants  of  the  cooked  meat  into  the  cave 
and  the  MAN-BEAST  creeps  forward.  He  takes 
a  brand  from  the  fire  and  tests  it  as  he  has  seen 
the  men  do.  The  ^voman  comes  from  the  cave. 
The  MAN-BEAST  seizes  her.  She  screams  and 
awakens  the  men.  The  MAN-BEAST  drags  her 
up  the  hill.  Then  the  men  seize  brands  and  fol 
low.  The  brands  are  seen  flickering  through  the 
forest.  The  fire  continues  burning  brightly. 
LONG  ARM  enters  on  the  hillside,  bearing  SING 
ING  BIRD  in  his  arms.  He  sings  to  her  tenderly 
and  sorrowfully  broken  portions  of  their  mat 
ing  music.  As  they  sit  by  one  of  the  pools,  he 
revives  her  with  water  and  they  sing  together. 
While  they  are  concluding  this  song,  a  red 
glow  has  begun  in  the  forest  where  the  brands 
were  seen.  This  glow  strengthens  rapidly.  Then 
enter  WOLF  SKIN,  SCAR  FACE,  FISH  EYES 
and  SHORT  LEGS.  Flames  appear  on  the  trees 
by  the  cave.  The  men  are  in  great  terror.) 

LONG  ARM  :         She  lives  !    We  were  not  too  late. 

WOLF  SKIN  :  We  followed  the  man-beast  into  the  darkness 
there.  The  fire  made  light  for  us  as  we  broke 
through  the  forest.  Then  the  man-beast  ran  into 
a  thicket,  dead  and  dry  since  last  summer.  At 
once  the  thicket  was  full  of  waving  brands  and 
the  heat  became  too  great.  We  held  our  hands 
before  our  faces,  but  we  could  not  bear  it.  We 
came  backward  and  still  the  brands  grew  more 
in  number  till  every  tree  is  holding  one  and 
there  is  a  great  roaring  as  though  many  beasts 
rushed  after  us  with  fire. 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


FISH  EYES  :  See  how  the  fire  drives  the  cave  people  be 
fore  it. 

(Crowds  pour  down  the  hill,  men  and  women 
and  little  children,  in  a  turmoil  of  fear.) 

WOLF  SKIN  :        Your  fire  is  no  friend ! 

SHORT  LEGS        It  is  eating  our  forest,  it  will  kill  us  all! 

SCAR  FACE  :  Our  grove  is  doomed !  It  is  you  who  have  done 
this  and  you  shall  die  first  of  all.  Kill  him ! 

(They  menace  LONG  ARM.  SINGING  BIRD 
throws  herself  between  him  and  her  father.  A 
peal  of  thunder  crashes  above  the  roar  of  the 
fire.) 

LONG  ARM  :  Hark,  it  is  the  call  of  the  rain  !  Water  kills  fire. 
It  is  the  voice  of  a  great  power  that  befriends 
us.  (Another  crash  of  thunder.)  Oh,  hear  it, 
hear  it,  it  is  the  voice  of  God! 

( The  rain  descends  and  the  fire  dies  out,  hiss 
ing.  The  orchestral  accompaniment  ceases  amid 
utter  darkness.  There  is  silence,  save  for  the 
heavy  falling  of  rain  upon  the  rocks.) 


THECAVEMAN  33 


Epilogue 


The  Ascent  of  Man 

(Choristers,  with  organ  accompaniment,  at  the  top  of  the  hill.) 
SPIRITUAL  VOICES 

Deep  is  the  sleep  of  man; 
Clothed  on  with  darkness,  he  sleepeth; 
Night  lieth  heavily  upon  his  eyelids; 
He  hath  forgotten  the  glory  of  the  eternal, 
He  knoweth  only  the  dream  of  time. 
(A  star  glows  in  the  darkness  and  a  voice  sings  from  it.) 

THE  STAR. 

Harken!     I  am  the  voice  that  stirs  forever  in  the  restless  heart 
of  man. 

Within  the  vaulted  center  of  a  shell, 

Far  flung  beyond  the  reaching  of  the  tide, 
Unceasing  echo  of  its  ceaseless  swell, 
The  accents  of  the  ocean  still  abide. 
For  the  shell  has  been  held  in  the  breast  of  the 

sea, 

And  never  the  winds  o'er  the  changing  sands 
Shall  silence  the  innermost  ecstasy 

That  turns  to  the  ocean  and  understands. 

SPIRITUAL  VOICES. 
What  shall  awaken  man, 
Breaking  the  dream  of  the  senses  ? 
Deep  is  the  sleep  that  hath  fallen  upon  him; 
When  shall  he  wake  to  the  glory  of  the  eternal, 
Losing  the  false  shadow  of  time? 

THE  STAR. 

Lo,  I  shall  sing  in  his  heart  through  the  ages, 
Song   he   must   hear   through   his    clamorous 

dream, 

Echoes  of  me  from  his  priests  and  his  sages, 
Till  at  the  last  I  restore  and  redeem. 
I  shall  sing  and  he  shall  hear, 

Vaguely,  faintly,   far-away ; 
In  his  sleep-enchanted  ear 
I  shall  tell  him  of  the  day, 


34  THECAVEMAN 


He  shall  grope  along  the  steep, 
Ever  climbing  in  his  sleep, 
Ever   upward,   following 
The  ideal  that  I  sing. 

And  my  music  shall  finally  drown  the  lie  that 

his  slumber  has  spoken; 
I  shall  fill  his  heart  with  my  song  and  the  bonds 

of  his  dream  shall  be  broken; 

He  shall  climb  through  the  strengthening  dawn, 
While  the  fetters  of  sleep  drop  away, 

Till  the  shadows  of  sense  shall  be  gone 
In  the  glory  of  infinite  day ! 

(An  archangelic  voice  speaks  from  the  sky.) 
THE:  VOICE:. 

Man  hath  discovered  fire ; 

He  hath  watched  the  works  of  his  hands, 

And  thought  hath  awakened  within  him. 

Behold,  he  shall  climb, 

Up  the  hard  path  of  the  ages, 

Up  from  the  gloom  of  the  senses, 

Into  the  glory  of  mind ! 

CHORAL  AND   PROCESSIONAL 

(Cave  men  climb  upward  in  shadow  until  they  are  replaced 
by  shepherds,  climbing  upward  in  a  dim  light.) 

SHEPHERDS. 

Night  made  the  sky  and  mountains  one; 

Behold,  above  the  mountain  wall 
The  blue  is  dreaming  of  the  sun, 

Expectant,  hushed,  augurial. 

Let  us  rise  up  in  the  dawn, 

Forth   with    our   flocks    to   the    tender   green 

spaces ; 
Come,  let  us  up  and  be  gone, 

Wandering  ever  and  seeking  new  places. 

(As  the  shepherds  reach  a  higher  level  they  are  replaced  by 
farmers  who  climb  in  turn  upzvard  in  a  stronger  light.  Mean 
while  the  entrance  of  shepherds  at  their  lower  level  continues.) 

FARMERS. 

Now,  where  the  little  stars  have  gone 
All  night  on  tiptoe  from  the  hills, 


THECAVEMAN  35 

Blossom  the  roses  of  the  dawn; 

The  arc  of  heaven  with  promise  thrills. 

Come,  let  us  out  to  the  soil, 

Blest  with  the  sun  and  the  rains ; 
Bread  is  the  guerdon  of  toil, 

And  the  home  we  have  builded  remains. 
(As  the  farmers  reach  a  higher  level  they  are  replaced  by 
warriors,  who  in  turn  climb  upward  in  a  stronger  light.     Mean 
while  the  entrance  of  farmers  at  their  lower  level  continues.) 

WARRIORS. 

Clear  light  in  the  sky! 

Day  draweth  nigh; 

The  world,   with  hilltop   and  plain, 

Appeareth  again. 

The  stars  have  melted  in  morning  air; 

So   shall   the   weaker   nations   flee; 
Might  gives  right;  it  is  ours  to  share 

The  spoils  of  the  land  and  sea. 

(As  the  zvarriors  reach  a  higher  level  they  are  replaced  by 
philosophers  climbing  in  a  stronger  light.  Meanwhile  the  entrance 
of  warriors  at  their  lower  level  continues.) 

PHILOSOPHERS. 
The  edge  of  the  world  is  afire ; 

Darkness  has  vanished   away; 
Exultant  awakens  the  choir 

That  heralds  the  coming  of  day. 
Light  has  been  vouchsafed  to  us, 

Clear  the  world  about  us  lies, 
Yet  the  mind  mysterious 

Seeth  further  than  the  eyes; 
Riseth  on  its  unseen  wings 
To  immeasurable  things ! 

(The  philosophers  have  reached  the  highest  visible  path.    The 
hillside  is  thronged  with  the  processional  of  the  ages.) 
O  growing  radiance  that  streams 

Above  this  life's  horizon  line 
And   casts   upon  our  human   dreams 

Reflection  of  a  light  divine, 

O  dawn  immortal,  pour  on  us 
Thy  strong  effulgence,  glorious, 
Over  all  night  victorious, 
Sunrise  eternal,  shine ! 

(A  fanfare  of  trumpets.  The  dawn  light  begins  at  the  top 
of  the  hill.) 


36  THECAVEMAN 


SPIRITUAL  VOICES. 

Man  awaketh  from  the  dream  of  the  senses ; 
Time  falleth  from  him  like  a  shadow, 
Glory  clotheth  him  evermore ! 

(He  who  spoke  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  appears  above  the 
gathered  multitude.  A  splendor  of  light  bursts  upon  the  forest 
and  a  cloud  of  ivhite  doves  hovers  above  the  climbing  hosts.) 

ALL: 

Hosanna !    Behold :  It  is  the  Sun ! 
(The  procession  is  led  upward  into  the  light.) 


SYNOPSIS  OF  THE  MUSIC 


SYNOPSIS     OF    THE    MUSIC 


39 


Synopsis  of  the  Music 


It  has  been  the  effort  of  the  composer,  in  writing  the  music 
of  The  Cave  Man,  to  parallel,  as  far  as  possible  advantageously 
in  musical  expression,  the  ideas,  occurrences  and  pictures  as  they 
occur  in  the  text  and  action. 

The  prelude  is  the  result  of  an  effort  toward  the  creation  of 
atmosphere  conducive  to  a  full  appreciation  of  the  scenes  that 
follow,  and  may  be  taken  as  a  tone  picture  in  the  life  of  primitive 
man.  The  thematic  material  upon  which  it  is  constructed  con 
sists  of  two  principal  motives : 

The  motive  of  Broken  Foot 


CktoAvO- 


(,, 


F     ? 


i 


fSF 


and  the  motive  of  Long  Arm. 


These  two  themes  are  developed  alternately  as  the  night 
gradually  merges  into  day,  and  the  climax  culminates  as  Broken 
Foot,  emerging  from  the  cave,  slays  a  deer  and  drags  it  up  the 
rocks  for  his  morning  feast. 

A  development  of  these  themes  is  also  used  for  the  struggle 
between  Long  Arm  and  Broken  Foot,  resulting  in  the  slaying  of 
the  latter. 


40 


SYNOPSIS     OF    THE     MUSIC 


Long  Arm,   fashioning  a  new   weapon   for   defense   against 
the  Man-Beast,  sings  a  song  of  the  flint: 


ILJ 


The  theme  of  the  flint  is  used  as  a  basis  upon  which  the 
musical  structure  is  built.  This  theme  is  heard  later  to  illustrate 
Long  Arm's  reasoning  about  the  origin  of  fire. 

Following  immediately  upon  this  is  heard  the  motive  of  fire, 


which  always  occurs  upon  the  appearance  of  fire  and  is  used  in 
a  much  intensified  form  during  the  burning  of  the  forest. 

This  merges  without  interruption  into  the   Spring  Song  of 
the  Cave  Maiden: 


The  music  of  this  song  is  to  be  considered  as  forming  from 
this  point  a  love  motive  and  is  heard  during  the  ramble  of  the 
cave  maiden  through  the  forest  and  during  the  wooing  of  the 
lovers,  culminating  during  a  concerted  number  in  their  mating. 


SYNOPSIS     OF    THE    MUSIC 


41 


The  motive  of  the  Man-Beast- 


is  introduced  at  the  entrance  of  the  gorilla  and  continues,  treated 
contrastingly,  with  the  motive  of  fire  during  his  presence  in  the 
action,  developing  cumulatively  into  the  music  of  the  combat 
between  Long  Arm  and  the  Man-Beast. 

As  night-fall  comes  on  after  the  mating,  the  fireflies  are  seen 
twinkling  rhythmically  in  the  forest  to  the  music  of  the  Dance 
of  the  Fireflies  symbolizing  the  joy  of  the  lovers: 


I 

L 

^=R? 

4^ 

In  the  second  part  the  musical  motives  introduced  in  the  first 
part  are  again  heard  treated  variously  with  a  view  toward  in 
tensifying  the  emotions  suggested  by  the  text  and  action,  culmi 
nating  in  the  forest  fire  and  its  extinguishment  by  the  rain,  thus 
ending  the  story  of  the  play. 


SYNOPSIS     OF    THE     MUSIC 


The  epilogue,  which  succeeds  directly  the  play  proper,  begins 
with  the  sound  of  spiritual  voices  heard  from  the  treetops,  enquir 
ing  of  the  future  of  man. 


The  musical  material  of  this  angelic  choral  is  a  modification 
of  the  twelfth  century  consecutive  fifths  of  Hucbald : 
In  reply,  the  voice  of  a  star  is  heard — 


singing  of  the  future  progress  of  human  intelligence,  which  is  to 
"climb  through  the  strengthening  dawn,  while  the  fetters  of 
sleep  drop  away." 

This  is  followed  by  a  vision,  in  allegorical  form,  illustrating 
the  progress  of  intellect  through  varying  stages  to  its  height. 
The  music  of  this  section  is  in  march  form — 


glfe  f  —  J—  — 

-—-- 

. 

^n 



-     ttf  *• 

M  f  i  *H 

t^ 

3  f  j,  5 

hr- 

r-H]     ,    1    .1     | 

j    .      - 

•  ,  j  ^  j 

and  begins  in  a  very  subdued  manner  with  the  gradual  addition 
of  shepherd's  pipe  and  trumpets  of  warriors 


*^£E 


and  finally  enlisting 

the  full  power  of  chorus  and  orchestra,  glorifying  the  heights 
already  attained  and  pointing  far  out  into  the  work  of  the  future. 

W.  J.  McCOY. 


THE  CREMATION  OF  CARE 


The  Cremation  of  Care 


UNDERTAKER G.  F.  Richardson 

HIGH  PRIEST Samuel  M.  Shortridge 

ACOLYTE Edgar  D.  Peixotto 

He  Devils,  She  Devils,  It  Devils  and  Jesters 

Music  composed  by  Herman  Perlet  and  rendered  by  a  double 
quartet. 

Lyrics  by  the  Undertaker. 


Funeral  pyre  and  illumination  by  Edward  J.  Duffey. 


THE  SUNDAY  MORNING- 
CONCERT 


(Eottrcrt 

August  7,  1910 
HERMAN  PERLET,  Conductor 

PROGRAMME 


OVERTURE,  In  Bohemia Henry  Hadley 

(CONDUCTED  BY  THE  COMPOSER) 

PRELUDE,  St.  Patrick  at  Tara  (Grove  Play,  1909)  .     .     . 

Wallace  A.  Sabin 

(CONDUCTED  BY  THE  COMPOSER) 

SUITE  FOR  STRING  ORCHESTRA Arthur  Foote 

(a)  Prelude 

(b)  Pizzicato  and  adagietto 

DALIAN  SUITE Theo.  Bendix 

(a)  Tarantella 

(b)  Scherzo 

JUITE  DE  BALLET Herman  Perlet 

(a)  Allegro-Capriccioso 

(b)  Valse  lento 

(c)  Polka  pizzicato 

(d)  Adagio-Presto 

SELECTIONS  FROM   The  Cave  Man    (Grove   Play,   1910) 

••••'••     .     .     , o    W.  J.  McCoy 

(CONDUCTED  BY  THE  COMPOSER) 


Thirty-third   Midsummer   High    Jinks  of    the   Bohemian 
Club,   Bohemia,   Sonoma   County,    California 
August    6th,    1910 

& 


THE   CAVE   MAN 

A  Play  of  the  Redwoods 


Text    by 

Charles  K.  Field 

Music  by 

W.  J.  McCoy 


INTRODUCTION    AND    SYNOPSES 


CHARLES    K.    FIELD 
SIRE 


COPYRIGHT,    1910 

BY  THE 
BOHEMIAN  CLUB 


Foreword 

The  Grove  Play  of  the  Bohemian  Club  is  the  outgrowth  of 
an  illuminated  spectacle  produced  annually  among  redwood  trees 
in  California.  In  The  Man  in  the  Forest,  at  the  Midsummer 
Jinks  of  1902,  this  spectacle  first  became  a  play,  the  text  being 
the  work  of  one  author  and  the  music  the  work  of  one  composer. 
Since  then,  the  music  drama  has  been  steadily  elaborated.  Yet 
it  has  been  the  aim,  excepting  the  play  of  Montezuma  (1903), 
to  produce  a  play  inherently  of  the  forest. 

The  Cave  Man  (1910)  has  its  inspiration  in  the  fact  that 
the  sequoia  groves  of  California,  one  of  which  the  Bohemian 
Club  owns,  are  the  only  forests  now  existing  that  resemble  the 
forests  of  the  cave  man's  day.  While  it  has  not  yet  been  estab 
lished  that  man  of  the  cave  type  occupied  this  region  of  the  earth, 
migrations  here  bringing  people  possibly  of  a  much  more  ad 
vanced  culture,  it  is  sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  the  grove 
dramatist  to  be  able  to  present  characters  of  the  more  ancient 
type  in  a  natural  setting  startlingly  close  to  the  original  scenery 
of  the  cave  man's  life. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  to  reproduce  the  exact  conditions 
of  speech,  appearance,  or  musical  expression.  Simple  language, 
to  set  forth  such  ideas  and  passions  as  might  make  a  presentable 
play,  has  been  employed  and  has  been  reinforced  by  interpre 
tative  music  in  the  manner  of  today.  Many  thousands  of  years 
of  progress  may  lie,  in  reality,  between  the  types  exhibited  in 
this  drama,  yet,  in  the  physical  aspects  of  the  life  of  these  people, 
care  has  been  taken  to  exclude  such  anachronisms  as  the  use  of 
the  bow  and  arrow  and  the  making  of  pictures  on  rock  or  in 
carved  bone — accomplishments  that  post-dalcd  tin-  discovery  of 
fire  by  tens  of  thousands  of  years.  The  characters  have  been 
costumed  to  suggest  men  of  a  primitive  type,  yet  far  removed 
from  the  creature  that  was  to  evolve  the  gorilla  of  our  day. 
That  creature,  also  a  character  in  the  drama,  doubtless  rcseinl>I»-<l 
the  cave  man  more  nearly  than  his  descendant  resembles  us.  His 
quest  of  the  woman  in  the  play  is  warranted  by  the  reported 
anxiety  of  modern  Africans  regarding  their  own  women  and 
the  gorilla. 

The  episode  of  the  tar  pool  is  based  upon  the  recently  reported 
discoveries  in  a  similar  deposit,  in  California,  where  remarkably 
frequent  remains  of  the  animals  and  birds  named  by  Long  Arm 
in  his  narrative  have  been  brought  to  light.  To  Dr.  J.  C. 
Merriam,  of  the  University  of  California,  under  whose  direction 
these  discoveries  have  been  reported,  I  am  indebted  for  a  symp;i 
thetic  editing  of  the  text  of  this  play. 


I  desire  to  record  my  gratitude  to  those  members  of  the 
Bohemian  Club  whose  co-operation,  well  in  accord  with  the 
traditions  which  have  made  possible  the  club's  admirable  pro 
ductions,  has  carried  my  dream  of  the  cave  man  to  fulfillment. 
Mr.  W.  J.  McCoy,  already  wearing  the  laurels  of  the 
Hamadryads,  undertook  to  express  my  play  in  music  when  the 
task  could  be  accomplished  only  by  severe  sacrifice.  That  he 
has  contributed  to  the  musical  treasures  of  the  club  a  work 
which,  perhaps,  excels  his  former  composition  is,  I  trust,  some 
measure  of  reward.  Mr.  Edward  J.  Duffey,  the  wizard  of  the 
illuminated  grove,  has  rendered  service  equally  important  to  a 
play  whose  action  is  written  round  the  phenomenon  of  fire.  Mr. 
George  E.  Lyon,  that  rare  combination  of  artist  and  carpenter, 
with  the  assistance  of  Dr.  Harry  Carleton,  has  performed  the 
feat  of  making  the  hillside  more  beautiful,  adding  stage  scenery 
without  sacrilege.  To  Mr.  Frank  L.  Mathieu,  veteran  of  many 
battles  with  amateur  talent,  I  am  indebted  for  untiring  super 
vision  of  the  production  of  the  play  and  for  valuable  suggestions 
in  its  arrangement.  Mr.  Porter  Garnett,  authority  upon  grove 
plays  and  himself  sire  imminent,  has  proved  his  loyalty  by  work 
ing  all  night  upon  the  making  of  this  book  of  the  play.  Mr. 
J.  de  P.  Teller  has  drilled  two  choirs  in  the  difficult  music  of  the 
Epilogue.  Mr.  David  Bispham,  a  new  member  of  the  club  and 
an  artist  of  international  fame,  has  shown  himself  imbued  also 
with  the  amateur  spirit  which  is  one  of  the  important  elements 
in  the  grove  play's  charm.  To  the  Board  of  Directors,  and  to 
their  immediate  predecessors,  with  their  respective  Jinks  Com 
mittees,  whose  sympathy  and  aid  under  unusual  circumstances 
have  made  possible  the  Midsummer  Jinks  of  1910,  and  to  all 
the  brothers  in  Bohemia  who  have  joined  me  in  the  labor  and 
pleasure  of  that  effort,  I  subscribe  myself  in  sincere  acknowledg 
ment, 

CHARLES  K.  FIELD. 


The   Scene 

The  scene  is  a  forested  hillside  in  the  geological  period  pre 
ceding  the  present, — some  tens  of  thousands  of  years  ago.  The 
landscape  is  black  with  night,  but  between  the  treetops  are 
glimpses  of  the  stars.  The  orchestral  introduction  is  in  keeping 
with  the  darkness;  it  suggests  the  chill  of  an  era  when  fire  is 
unknown,  and  the  terror  that  pervades  the  prehistoric  forest  at 
night.  Into  the  glimpses  of  sky  at  the  top  of  the  hill  comes  the 
Hush  of  dawn.  The  red  fades  into  blue  and  light  comes  through 
the  forest,  progressively  doivn  the  hillside.  The  radiance  of 
morning  discloses  a  grove  of  giant  conifers,  rich  in  ferns  and  in 
blossoming  vines;  it  is  spring  in  the  forest.  Rock  outcrops  from 
the  lozver  parts  of  the  hillside  and  a  small  stream  plashes  into  a 
succession  of  pools;  at  the  base  of  the  hill  the  rock  appears  as  a 
great  ledge,  the  upper  portion  of  which  overhangs.  Small  plants 
cling  to  the  uneven  face  of  the  cliff  and  young  trees  stand  along 
its  rim.  Under  the  overhanging  ledge  there  is  a  narrow  entrance, 
closed  with  two  boulders,  that  is  high  enough  to  admit  a  man 
stooping  slightly.  The  ground  immediately  before  the  cave  is 
level,  but  soon  drops  in  a  succession  of  ledges  to  a  plateau  filled 
with  ferns  and  boulders  through  which  the  stream  Hows.  Blossom 
ing  plants  edge  the  pools  and  the  lower  and  larger  pool  has  tall 
reeds,  tules,  and  ferns  about  it.  The  stream  continues  on  to  a 
river  that  runs  westward  to  the  sea. 


The  Story  of  The  Play 

Once  upon  a  time,  some  tens  of  thousands  of  years  ago,  the 
greater  part  of  the  northern  hemisphere  was  covered  with  a 
mighty  forest  of  conifers.  Its  trees  rose  hundreds  of  feet  in 
height;  their  huge  trunks,  twenty  and  thirty  feet  through,  were 
shaggy  with  a  reddish  bark;  between  them  grew  smaller  and 
gentler  trees,  thick  ferns  and  blossoming  vines.  Today,  in  the 
sequoia  groves  of  California  stands  all  that  is  left  of  that 
magnificent  woodland. 

On  a  memorable  night,  when  the  moon  searched  the  deep 
shadows  of  Bohemia's  redzvoods  for  memories  of  the  past  and 
the  mystery  of  night  magnified  our  trees  to  the  size  of  their 
brethren  in  other  groves,  I  sat  with  W.  J.  McCoy  before  the  high 
jinks  stage.  Fancy  has  ever  been  stimulated  by  fact  and  we  were 
aware  that  we  looked  upon  such  a  scene  as  the  cave  man  knew. 
And  so  in  the  moonlight  we  dreamed  that  the  forest  was  still 
growing  in  the  comparative  youth  of  mankind,  that  no  light  other 
than  the  fires  of  heaven  had  ever  shone  in  the  grove,  that  the 
man  of  that  day  wooed  his  mate  and  fought  great  beasts  for 
their  raw  flesh  and  made  the  first  fire  among  those  very  trees. 

The  prehistoric  forest  was  very  dark  and  as  dangerous  as  it 
was  dark.  Therefore  the  cave  men  went  into  their  caves  when 
daylight  faded  among  the  trees  and  they  blocked  the  cave  door 
ways  with  great  boulders  and  they  slept  soundly  on  leaves  and 
rushes  until  the  daylight  peeped  through  the  chinks  of  the 
boulders.  One  morning,  Broken  Foot,  a  big  man  with  heavy 
dark  hair  on  his  body  and  an  expression  that  was  not  amiable 
even  for  a  cave  man's  face,  rolled  back  the  blocking  of  his  cave 
and  crept  cautiously  out.  It  happened  that  a  deer  had  chosen 
to  drink  from  a  pool  by  Broken  Foot's  cave.  A  great  stone  broke 
the  neck  of  the  luckless  deer  and  the  cave  man  breakfasted  well. 

As  he  sat  there  on  the  rocks,  carving  with  his  flint  knife  the 
raw  body  of  the  deer,  certain  neighbors  joined  him,  one  by  one. 
They  were  Scar  Face,  a  prodigious  glutton  but  sharp  witted  and 
inventive,  Fish  Eyes  and  Short  Legs,  young  hunters  with 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


specialties,  and  Wolf  Skin,  the  father  of  Singing  Bird,  a  much- 
admired  maiden  just  entering  womanhood.  Then  ensued  such 
talk  as  belonged  to  that  period — stories  of  hunting,  of  escape 
and  also  of  discoveries.  Many  remarkable  things  were  being  put 
forth  in  those  days  by  the  inquiring  spirit  of  men,  shells  to  hold 
water,  a  log  that  would  obey  a  man  with  a  paddle,  even  a  wolf 
had  been  tamed  and  made  a  companion  of  a  hunter.  So  the 
morning  passed  in  interesting  discussion  and  all  would  have  been 
harmonious  in  the  little  group  before  Broken  Foot's  cave  had 
not  Short  Legs  listened  eagerly  to  Wolf  Skin's  description  of 
his  daughter  and  announced  his  intention  of  mating  with  her. 
As  he  rose  to  seek  the  girl,  Broken  Foot  knocked  him  down 
with  a  sudden  blow  and  bade  him  think  no  more  of  the  cave 
maiden.  At  this,  Short  Legs,  although  no  match  for  the  great 
bully,  burst  out  with  a  torrent  of  abuse,  calling  Broken  Foot  many 
unpleasant  names,  and  Fish  Eyes,  his  inseparable  friend,  came 
to  his  aid  with  more  unflattering  words,  even  accusing  Broken 
Foot  of  murdering  his  brother  to  get  his  cave  and  his  mate. 
Broken  Foot,  making  ready  to  seek  the  girl,  listened  indifferently 
to  this  tirade  until  Short  Legs  called  him  a  coward. 

Earlier  in  the  day  Wolf  Skin  had  told  of  meeting  a  stranger 
in  the  forest,  a  young  man  who  carried  a  singular  weapon,  made 
of  both  wood  and  stone.  This  stranger  had  inquired  for  the 
cave  of  Broken  Foot,  a  man  who  dragged  one  foot  as  he  walked. 
Short  Legs  accused  Broken  Foot  of  running  away  from  this  new 
comer.  This  was  too  much.  Broken  Foot,  already  part  way  up 
the  hill  on  his  way  to  Singing  Bird,  turned  back  toward  the  cave 
men  threateningly.  Just  then  a  young  man  came  along  a  higher 
path.  He  looked  down  on  the  man  who  dragged  one  foot  as 
he  walked.  With  a  terrible  cry  of  rage  he  leaped  down  the  hill. 
Broken  Foot,  with  his  great  strength,  had  been  the  champion  of 
those  woods  for  years.  But  Long  Arm,  the  stranger,  carried  the 
first  stone  axe,  and  under  this  new  weapon  Broken  Foot  went 
down  into  the  dead  leaves. 

Then,  of  course,  the  whole  story  came  out.  The  young 
stranger  proved  to  be  the  son  of  the  man  whom  Broken  Foot  had 
murdered.  The  boy  had  been  with  the  two  men  at  the  time. 
The  scene  of  the  murder  was  a  small  lake  into  which  tar  con 
tinually  oozed,  making  a  sticky  trap  for  all  sorts  of  wild  animals. 
A  similar  place  exists  in  California  today,  where  animals  are 
caught,  and  geologists  have  found  in  the  ground  there  great 
quantities  of  bones  of  prehistoric  animals,  the  sabretooth  tigers 
and  the  great  wolves  of  the  cave  man's  day.  Here  was  enacted 
the  tragedy  of  which  Long  Arm  tells.  The  boy  got  away  and 
was  reared  by  the  Shell  People  on  their  mounds  beside  the  sea. 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


He  had  invented  a  new  weapon  and  now  he  had  come  back  into 
the  forest  to  kill  Broken  Foot  and  to  get  again  the  cave  of  his 
father. 

Long  Arm  was  kindly  welcomed  by  the  cave  men.  They  had 
no  love  for  the  dead  bully  and  they  respected  a  good  fight.  So 
the  boy  was  welcomed  home  again.  Yet  the  greeting  held  a  note 
of  warning  in  it.  Old  One  Eye,  fleeing  through  the  forest,  told 
them  that  the  terrible  man-beast  was  again  roving  through  the 
trees.  The  cave  men  did  not  know  that  this  creature  was  but 
the  ancestor  of  the  gorilla  of  today.  To  them  he  was  a  man 
who  seemed  to  be  a  beast.  They  could  not  understand  him  but 
they  knew  that  he  was  larger  than  any  other  man  and  stronger 
than  all  of  them  together,  and  they  gave  him  a  wide  berth. 

Long  Arm  was  left  alone  in  the  cave  he  had  regained.  He 
sat  on  the  rocks,  in  the  pleasant  shade  of  the  trees,  and  chipped 
away  at  the  edge  of  his  flint  axe.  He  was  very  well  satisfied 
with  himself  and  he  sang  a  kind  of  exultant  song  in  tribute  to 
the  weapon  that  had  served  him  so  well.  As  he  worked  and  sang 
the  sparks  flew  from  the  flint  and  by  one  of  those  chances  which 
have  made  history  from  the  dawn  of  time,  some  dry  grass  was 
kindled.  No  one  in  the  world  had  made  fire  before  that  day. 
Long  Arm  saw  what  he  thought  was  some  bright  new  kind  of 
serpent.  He  struck  it  a  fatal  blow  with  his  axe  and  picked  it  up ; 
it  bit  him  and  with  a  cry  he  shook  it  from  his  hand.  Chances  go 
in  pairs,  sometimes.  The  burning  twig  fell  into  a  little  pool  and 
was  extinguished.  Long  Arm  observed  and  studied  all  this,  a 
very  much  puzzled  but  interested  young  man.  Then  occurred 
one  of  those  moments  that  have  lifted  men  above  the  brutes. 
Long  Arm  struck  his  flints  together  and  made  fire  again  and  man 
has  been  repeating  and  improving  that  process  ever  since. 

That  was  destined  to  be  a  red-letter  day,  if  we  may  use  such 
a  calendar  term,  in  the  life  of  that  young  cave  man.  He  had  got 
his  cave  again  and  he  had  discovered  something  that  would  make 
it  the  best  home  in  all  the  world,  yet  it  was  not  complete.  And 
just  then  he  heard  Wolf  Skin's  daughter  singing  among  the  trees. 
Long  Arm  dropped  his  new  toy  and  it  burned  out  on  the  rock. 
He  hid  behind  a  great  tree  and  watched.  Singing  Bird  came, 
unsuspecting,  down  the  path.  One  of  the  pools  near  the  cave 
was  quiet  and  the  young  girl  was  not  proof  against  the  allure 
ment  of  this  mirror.  She  had  twined  some  blossoms  in  her  hair 
and  she  was  enjoying  the  reflection  when  Long  Arm  stole  toward 
her.  But  she  saw  his  reflection  too,  in  time  to  leap  away  from 
him.  Then  Long  Arm  wooed  her  instead  of  following  to  take 
her  by  force,  for  that  was  not  at  all  a  certainty,  since  she  might 
easily  outrun  him.  So  he  told  her  of  himself  and  his  stone  axe 
and  his  victory  and  his  cave,  making  it  all  as  attractive  as  possible 
and  at  last  he  told  her  of  the  fire  and  made  it  before  her  eyes 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


with  his  sparking  flints.  Singing  Bird  was  deeply  impressed  by 
all  these  things  and  by  the  confident  manner  of  Long  Arm,  and 
especially  by  the  bright  new  plaything,  and  she  came  gradually 
nearer  to  see  these  wonders. 

Then  suddenly  the  man-beast  came  upon  the  two,  and  the 
woman  leaped  in  terror  to  the  arms  of  the  man.  The  man-beast 
barred  the  way  to  the  cave.  Then  Long  Arm  braved  him,  though 
it  meant  death,  that  the  girl  might  flee.  The  man-beast  seized 
Long  Arm's  boasted  axe  and  snapped  it  like  a  twig.  Then  he 
grasped  the  man  and  proceeded  to  crush  him  in  his  hairy  hold. 
But  the  girl,  under  the  spell  of  her  new  love,  had  run  but  a 
little  way  and  then,  in  spite  of  her  terror,  turned  to  look  back. 
She  shrieked  wildly  at  Long  Arm's  peril  and  the  great  beast 
threw  the  man  aside  and  came  after  the  girl.  She  tried  desperately 
to  evade  him  and  to  get  to  the  narrow  door  of  the  cave.  Mean 
while  Long  Arm  had  been  only  stunned.  Recovering,  he  saw  the 
firebrand  burning  where  he  had  dropped  it  on  the  rocks.  He 
seized  it,  remembering  its  bite,  and  again  attacked  the  man-beast. 
Here  was  something  new,  and  very  terrible.  No  animal,  from 
that  day  to  this,  has  stood  against  fire.  The  man-beast  fled  into 
the  forest. 

Then  Long  Arm  came  back  in  triumph.  Wonderful  days  fol 
lowed,  with  the  happy  discovery  of  cooked  meat,  and  the  tragedy 
of  a  forest  fire,  but  through  all  their  lives  Long  Arm  and  Singing 
Bird  remembered  this  day  when,  in  the  joy  of  their  escape  from 
death  and  under  the  spell  of  the  woodland  in  springtime,  they 
began  their  life  together  in  the  cave. 


10  T  H  E    C  A'V  E    MAN 


Plan  of  the  Music 

1  PRELUDE. 

2  THE  FIGHT  BETWEEN  LONG  ARM  AND  BROKEN  FOOT 

3  LONG  ARM'S  STORY  OF  THE  TAR  POOL 

4  THE  SONG  OF  THE  FLINT 

5  LONG  ARM'S  DISCOVERY  OF  FIRE. 

6  THE  SPRING  SONG  OF  THE  CAVE  MAIDEN 

7  LONG  ARM'S  BATTLE  WITH  THE  MAN-BEAST 

8  THE  SONG  OF  MATING 

9  INTERMEZZO — THE  DANCE  OF  THE  FIREFLIES 

10  THE  MAN-BEAST'S  CAPTURE  OF  SINGING  BIRD 

11  THE  RESCUE 

12  THE  FOREST  FIRE 


The    Epilogue 


13  CHOIR  OF  SPIRITUAL  VOICES 

14  THE  SONG  OF  THE  STAR 

15  CHORUS:  THE  MARCH  OF  THE  DAWN 


THE     CAVE    MAN 


11 


Synopsis  of  the  Music 


It  has  been  the  effort  of  the  composer,  in  writing  the  music 
of  The  Cave  Man,  to  parallel,  as  far  as  possible  advantageously 
in  musical  expression,  the  ideas,  occurrences  and  pictures  as  they 
occur  in  the  text  and  action. 

The  prelude  is  the  result  of  an  effort  toward  the  creation  of 
atmosphere  conducive  to  a  full  appreciation  of  the  scenes  that 
follow,  and  may  be  taken  as  a  tone  picture  in  the  life  of  primitive 
man.  The  thematic  material  upon  which  it  is  constructed  con 
sists  of  two  principal  motives: 

The  motive  of  Broken  Foot 


F     P 

and  the  motive  of  Long  Arm. 


:J>^ji 

p 

.^••f  p  f  

These  two  themes  are  developed  alternately  as  the  night 
gradually  merges  into  day,  and  the  climax  culminates  as  Broken 
Foot,  emerging  from  the  cave,  slays  a  deer  and  drags  it  up  the 
rocks  for  his  morning  feast. 

A  development  of  these  themes  is  also  used  for  the  struggle 
between  Long  Arm  and  Broken  Foot,  resulting  in  the  slaying  of 
the  latter. 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


Long  Arm,   fashioning  a  new   weapon   for   defense   against 
the  Man-Beast,  sings  a  song  of  the  flint : 


SOfe 


irj 


TV? 


The  theme  of  the  flint  is  used  as  a  basis  upon  which  the 
musical  structure  is  built.  This  theme  is  heard  later  to  illustrate 
Long  Arm's  reasoning  about  the  origin  of  fire. 

Following  immediately  upon  this  is  heard  the  motive  of  fire, 


which  always  occurs  upon  the  appearance  of  fire  and  is  used  in 
a  much  intensified  form  during  the  burning  of  the  forest. 

This  merges  without  interruption  into  the  Spring  Song  of 
the  Cave  Maiden: 


The  music  of  this  song  is  to  be  considered  as  forming  from 
this  point  a  love  motive  and  is  heard  during  the  ramble  of  the 
cave  maiden  through  the  forest  and  during  the  wooing  of  the 
lovers,  culminating  during  a  concerted  number  in  their  mating. 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


13 


The  motive  of  the  Man-Beast — 


is  introduced  at  the  entrance  of  the  gorilla  and  continues,  treated 
contrastingly,  with  the  motive  of  fire  during  his  presence  in  the 
action,  developing  cumulatively  into  the  music  of  the  combat 
between  Long  Arm  and  the  Man-Beast. 

As  night-fall  comes  on  after  the  mating,  the  fireflies  are  seen 
twinkling  rhythmically  in  the  forest  to  the  music  of  the  Dance 
of  the  Fireflies  symbolizing  the  joy  of  the  lovers: 


In  the  second  part  the  musical  motives  introduced  in  the  first 
part  are  again  heard  treated  variously  with  a  view  toward  in 
tensifying  the  emotions  suggested  by  the  text  and  action,  culmi 
nating  in  the  forest  fire  and  its  extinguishment  by  the  rain,  thus 
ending  the  story  of  the  play. 


14 


THE     CAVE     MAN 


The  epilogue,  which  succeeds  directly  the  play  proper,  begins 
with  the  sound  of  spiritual  voices  heard  from  the  treetops,  enquir 
ing  of  the  future  of  man. 

*&  vn£uv 


2>C*f3  ^  &X, 

The  musical  material  of  this  angelic  choral  is  a  modification 
of  the  twelfth  century  consecutive  fifths  of  Hucbald  : 
In  reply,  the  voice  of  a  star  is  heard — 


singing  of  the  future  progress  of  human  intelligence,  which  is  to 
"climb  through  the  strengthening  dawn,  while  the  fetters  of 
sleep  drop  away." 

This  is  followed  by  a  vision,  in  allegorical  form,  illustrating 
the  progress  of  intellect  through  varying  stages  to  its  height. 
The  music  of  this  section  is  in  march  form — 


1 

tf 

•  <  f  <f  i  lif- 

^^ 

T^l 

i  "  j  '<  1    ^ 

and  begins  in  a  very  subdued  manner  with  the  gradual  addition 
of  shepherd's  pipe  and  trumpets  of  warriors 


and  finally  enlisting 

the  full  power  of  chorus  and  orchestra,  glorifying  the  heights 
already  attained  and  pointing  far  out  into  the  work  of  the  future. 

W.  J.  McCOY. 


THECAVEMAN  15 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  FLINT. 

LONG  ARM:         Flint  in  my  hand! 

All  the  wood  waits  for  me; 

I  am  its  master 

While  there  is  sunlight, 

While  I  can  see. 

Sharpened  and  shaped  for  me, 

Lashed  to  my  oaken  arm, 

Strike  at  my  quarry  now, 

Bite  to  the  heart, 

Hungry  tooth  of  the  flint ! 

Strike ! 

Flint  on  flint; 

Send  up  the  little  stars 

That  fade  ere  they  fly. 

I  shall  bring  home  with  me, 

Home  to  my  cave, 

Beasts  that  have  longed  for  me, 

Followed  me,  sprung  at  me 

Out  of  the  shadow 

Into  the  sun ; 

Scarred  with  the  flint's  bite, 

Blood-drip  to  mark  the  path, 

We  shall  come  dragging  them, 

We  shall  come  home  with  them, 

The  black  flint  and  I! 

'      Strike !  Strike  ! 
flint, 

r  spark; 

Wake  from  your  black  depths 
The  lights  that  go  flashing 
Like  the  bright  bugs  that  play 
Over  water  at  evening. 

Men  of  the  neighbor  caves, 
They  shall  behold  us 
Hunting  together, 
Laden  with  spoil ; 
They  shall  make  way  for  us ; 
Give  us  a  free  road 
Home  to  our  rest ; 
He  that  would  bar  us 
Shall  lie  in  the  leaves ! 
And  from  the  cave-mouths, 


16  THECAVEMAN 

Eyes  like  the  young  deer's 
Shall  follow  with  longing 
The  feet  of  the  hunter, 
While   we   come   home 
The  black  flint  and  I! 

Strike!    Strike!    Strike! 

Flint  on  flint, 

Spark   after   spark, 

Faster  and  faster; 

Out  of  the  dark, 

Out  of  the  heart  of  the  oak 

And  the  flint's  black  belly, 

The  friend  that  shall  fight  for  me, 

Smite  for  me,  bite  for  me, 

My  weapon  is  born! 


THE  SPRING  SONG  OF  THE 
CAVE  MAIDEN 

Warm  slept  I  in  the  cave's  deep  shadow,  sweet 

with  love  was  my  dream ! 
I  dreamed  that  I  roved, 

Far  following  a  pathway  strange,  beside  an  un 
known  stream — 
There  was  I  loved ! 
Although  I  fled  he  caught  me,  his  great  limbs 

held  my  feet, 
Strongly  he  held  me  near, 
Ah,  mightily  pressed, 
Yet,  struggling  not,  I  lay  there,  strangely  still 

nor  fain  to  be  fleet; 
Glad  of  his  breast ! 

Within  the  cave  I  woke  and  heard  the  stream 

Murmur  his  words, 

Whispering  near; 
My  bosom  answered,  throbbing  with  my  dream; 

The  call  of  mating  birds 

Filled  my  ear; 
The  woodland  spoke 

A  message  clear 

When  I  awoke! 

So   came   I   down   the   sunlit  path  that  leads   I 

know   not   where, — 
Dear  sun,  be  my  guide ! 


THECAVEMAN  17 

My  blood  with  love  is  warm  as  thou  hast  made 

the  quickening  air; 
Spring  flows  full  tide. 
Above  me,  see,  the  tender  doves  are  billing  with 

trembling  wings 
On  every  tree; 
Oh  joy  of  spring,  the  world   is   full  of  happy 

mating  things, 
Welcoming  me ! 

For  I  shall  find  my  lover  by  some  stream, 
And  shall  not  flee 
From  his  will; 

And  all  the  aching  sweetness  of  my  dream 
Our  happiness  to  be 

Shall  fulfill; 
Even   apart, 

No  time  shall  still 
His  beating  heart! 

Shine,  shine  on  me,  dear  sun,  and  lead  me,  fol 
lowing  thy  beams, 
To  where  he  may  wait; 
Oh  joy  of  spring,  oh  love  more  warm  than  sun, 

more  dear  than  dreams, 
Give  me  my  mate ! 

THE    SONG   OF   MATING 

THE  MAN. 
Lo,  I  have  filled  him  with  terror; 

From    the   fire    he    fled   away! 
No  more  my  cave  shall  fear  him, 

I  shall  keep  him  still  at  bay. 
Before  my  cave  the  fire  shall  burn 

Through  all  the  terror  haunted  night, 
And  all  the  wondering  woods  shall  learn 

How  mightily  these  comrades  fight, 
The  fire  and   I! 

THE:  WOMAN. 
How  can  it  be  he  has  conquered, 

Alone  and  unaided  by  stone ! 
Happy  and  safe  will  his  cave  be, 

Although  he  shall  guard  it  alone. 

THE;  MAN. 

Ah,  see,  my  cave  is  waiting, 
Safely  guarded  from  harm?, 


18  THECAVEMAN 


Share  it  with  me! 
My  bed  of  leaves  is  lonely, 
Closely  folded  in  my  arms, 
Warm  wilt  thou  be. 

THE;  WOMAN. 

Ah,  like  a  leaf  that  the  river 
Tenderly  floats  to  rest 

Upon  the  shore, 
A  tide  of  love  now  bears  me 
Blissfully  to  his  breast, 
To  wander  no  more. 

THE  MAN. 

And  all  night  long  together  we  shall  rest 
And  feel  the  throbbing  of  each  other's  breast, 
And  closely,  softly,  warmly  lie 
In  the  cave's  deep  shelter,  thou  and  I ; 
Come,  share  my  cave,  the  leaves  await. 

THE  WOMAN. 
Take  me,  take  me  for  thy  mate ! 

THE  MAN  AND  THE  WOMAN. 
Ah,  see,  the  cave  is  waiting,  safely  guarded  from 

harms, 

Warm  will  we  be ; 

On  leafy  bed  soft  lying,  closely  held  in  thy  arms, 
Mating  with  thee ! 


THECAVEMAN  19 


Epilogue 


The  Ascent  of  Man 

(Choristers,  with  organ  accompaniment,  at  the  top  of  the  hill.) 

SPIRITUAL  VOICES 
Deep  is  the  sleep  of  man ; 
Clothed  on  with  darkness,  he  sleepeth; 
Night  lieth  heavily  upon  his  eyelids; 
He  hath  forgotten  the  glory  of  the  eternal, 
He  knoweth  only  the  dream  of  time. 
(A  star  glows  in  the  darkness  and  a  voice  sings  from  it.) 

THE  STAR. 

Harken!     I  am  the  voice  that  stirs  forever  in  the  restless  heart 
of  man. 

Within  the  vaulted  center  of  a  shell, 

Far  flung  beyond  the  reaching  of  the  tide, 
Unceasing  echo  of  its  ceaseless  swell, 
The  accents  of  the  ocean  still  abide. 
For  the  shell  has  been  held  in  the  breast  of  the 

sea, 

And  never  the  winds  o'er  the  changing  sands 
Shall  silence  the  innermost  ecstasy 

That  turns  to  the  ocean  and  understands. 

SPIRITUAL  VOICES. 
What  shall  awaken  man, 
Breaking  the  dream  of  the  senses  ? 
Deep  is  the  sleep  that  hath  fallen  upon  him ; 
When  shall  he  wake  to  the  glory  of  the  eternal, 
Losing  the  false  shadow  of  time? 

THE  STAR. 

Lo,  I  shall  sing  in  his  heart  through  the  ages, 
Song   he    must   hear   through   his    clamorous 

dream, 

Echoes  of  me  from  his  priests  and  his  sages, 
Till  at  the  last  I  restore  and  redeem. 
I  shall  sing  and  he  shall  hear, 

Vaguely,  faintly,  far-away; 
In  his  sleep-enchanted  ear 
I  shall  tell  him  of  the  day, 


20  THE     CAVE     MAN 

He  shall  grope  along  the  steep, 
Ever  climbing  in  his  sleep, 
Ever  upward,   following 
The  ideal  that  I  sing. 

And  my  music  shall  finally  drown  the  lie  that 

his  slumber  has  spoken ; 
I  shall  fill  his  heart  with  my  song  and  the  bonds 

of  his  dream  shall  be  broken ; 

He  shall  climb  through  the  strengthening  dawn, 
While  the  fetters  of  sleep  drop  away, 

Till  the  shadows  of  sense  shall  be  gone 
In  the  glory  of  infinite  day ! 

(An  archangelic  voice  speaks  from  the  sky.) 
THE  VOICE. 

Man  hath  discovered  fire ; 

He  hath  watched  the  works  of  his  hands, 

And  thought  hath  awakened  within  him. 

Behold,  he  shall  climb, 

Up  the  hard  path  of  the  ages, 

Up  from  the  gloom  of  the  senses, 

Into  the  glory  of  mind ! 

CHORAL  AND   PROCESSIONAL 

(Cave  men  climb  upward  in  shadow  until  they  are  replaced 
by  shepherds,  climbing  upward  in  a  dim  light.) 

SHEPHERDS. 

Night  made  the  sky  and  mountains  one ; 

Behold,   above  the  mountain  wall 
The  blue  is  dreaming  of  the  sun, 

Expectant,  hushed,  augurial. 

Let  us  rise  up  in  the  dawn, 

Forth   with    our   flocks   to    the   tender   green 

spaces ; 
Come,  let  us  up  and  be  gone, 

Wandering  ever  and  seeking  new  places. 

(As  the  shepherds  reach  a  higher  level  they  are  replaced  by 
farmers  who  climb  in  turn  upward  in  a  stronger  light.  Mean- 
ivhile  the  entrance  of  shepherds  at  their  loiver  level  continues.) 

FARMERS. 

Now,  where  the  little  stars  have  gone 
All  night  on  tiptoe  from  the  hills, 


THECAVEMAN 


Blossom  the  roses  of  the  dawn; 

The  arc  of  heaven  with  promise  thrills. 

Come,  let  us  out  to  the  soil, 

Blest  with  the  sun  and  the  rains ; 
Bread  is  the  guerdon  of  toil, 

And  the  home  we  have  builded  remains. 
(As  the  farmers  reach  a  higher  level  they  are  replaced  by 
warriors,  who  in  turn  climb  upward  in  a  stronger  light.    Mean 
while  the  entrance  of  farmers  at  their  lower  level  continues.) 

WARRIORS. 

Clear  light  in  the  sky! 

Day  draweth  nigh; 

The  world,  with  hilltop   and  plain, 

Appeareth  again. 

The  stars  have  melted  in  morning  air; 

So   shall   the   weaker   nations   flee; 
Might  gives  right;  it  is  ours  to  share 

The  spoils  of  the  land  and  sea. 

(As  the  warriors  reach  a  higher  level  they  are  replaced  by 
philosophers  climbing  in  a  stronger  light.  Meanwhile  the  entrance 
of  warriors  at  their  lower  level  continues.) 

PHILOSOPHERS. 

The  edge  of  the  world  is  afire; 

Darkness  has  vanished  away; 
Exultant  awakens  the  choir 

That  heralds  the  coming  of  day. 
Light  has  been  vouchsafed  to^us, 

Clear  the  world  about  us  lies, 
Yet  the  mind  mysterious 

Seeth  further  than  the  eyes; 
Riseth  on  its  unseen  wings 
To  immeasurable  things! 

(The  philosophers  have  reached  the  highest  visible  path.    The 
hillside  is  thronged  with  the  processional  of  the  ages.) 
O  growing  radiance  that  streams 

Above  this  life's  horizon  line 
And   casts   upon  our  human   dreams 

Reflection  of  a  light  divine, 

O  dawn  immortal,  pour  on  jus 
Thy  strong  effulgence,  glorious, 
Over  all  night  victorious, 

Sunrise  eternal,  shine ! 

(A  fanfare  of  trumpets.     The  dawn  light  begins  at  the  top 
of  the  hill.) 


22  THECAVEMAN 


SPIRITUAL  Voices. 

Man  awaketh  from  the  dream  of  the  senses ; 
Time  falleth  from  him  like  a  shadow, 
Glory  clotheth  him  evermore! 

(He  who  spoke  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  appears  above  the 
gathered  multitude.  A  splendor  of  light  bursts  upon  the  forest 
and  a  cloud  of  white  doves  hovers  above  the  climbing  hosts.) 

ALL: 

Hosanna !    Behold :  It  is  the  Sun ! 
(The  procession  is  led  upward  into  the  light.) 


The  stage  directed  by  Frank  L.  Mathieu.  The  scene  and 
properties  designed  and  built  by  George  E.  Lyon.  The  lighting 
and  fire  effects  devised  and  executed  by  Edward  J.  Duffy.  The 
costumes  prepared  by  Goldstein  &  Co.,  under  the  supervision  of 
John  C.  Merritt.  The  calcium  lights  managed  by  F.  W.  French. 

The  music,  conducted  by  the  composer,  rendered  by  the  fol 
lowing  forces: 

A  chorus  of  sixty-five  voices,  consisting  of  seventeen  first 
tenors,  sixteen  second  tenors,  sixteen  first  basses,  and  sixteen 
second  basses,  recruited  from  the  membership  of  the  club. 

A  choir  of  fifteen  boys,  recruited  from  the  vested  choirs  of 
St.  John's  Church,  Oakland,  and  Christ  Church,  Alameda. 

An  orchestra  of  sixty  instruments,  distributed  as  follows: 

Ten  first  violins,  eight  second  violins,  six  violas,  six  cellos, 
six  double  basses,  two  flutes,  two  oboes,  two  clarinets,  English 
horn,  two  bassoons,  four  trumpets,  four  horns,  three  trombones, 
harp,  tuba,  tympani  and  drums. 

JOHN  D£  P.  TELLER,  Chorus  Master. 
JOHN  JOSEPHS,  Concert  Master. 


YC   16767 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


